A' Chomraich
by SpyGirl1969
Summary: She never thought she would see him again... she was wrong. He always knew that if he saw her again, it would be under very dramatic circumstances... he was right. Chapter 11 and Epilogue now posted.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, Jim Henson does. I don't own any recognizable characters, places or situations in this story. I am making no profit from writing this story; it is merely for my own enjoyment and hopefully that of others.

Summary: She never thought she would see him again... she was wrong. He always knew that if he saw her again, it would be under very dramatic circumstances... he was right.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance

Notes: Deleted it, regretted it, my fantastic beta still had it, so am reposting. Thank you, Magialuna!

_**A' Chomraich**_

It had been a very long time since a calling went so badly, he mused, flying high over the trees somewhere in Georgia. It was late afternoon, the season early summer. The sky was just beginning to streak with vivid oranges and purples.

Jordan, the lad who had wished away his baby sister Emmy, had immediately begun screaming at the top of his lungs as soon as Jareth appeared, prompting his father to appear with a shotgun and his mother with a rolling pin coated with flour.

Jareth had beaten a hasty and ignominious retreat. Both protective parents had followed him to the window, brandishing their respective weapons, shouting threats at him as he flew away. They had seemed completely unfazed to see him turn into an owl right before their eyes. Indeed, the insane folk had begun to threaten to 'fry him up but good.'

The day had not boded well from the beginning; the moment he got the call, Jareth had known something was 'off'. It wasn't worth it; Jordan had meant his wish even less than had Sarah Williams, the girl who had bested his Labyrinth and his heart.

Now, all he wanted to do was to reach the portal through which he could return home to the Underground and nurse his wounded ego. What a dismal scene! So immersed was he in reliving the humiliation that he never saw the man below who raised his hunting bow with precision aim, releasing the arrow that shot through the sky and pierced Jareth's left wing.

With a startled, pained cry, he frantically flailed his right wing for all he was worth as he felt himself losing altitude far too quickly. The ground spun in a dizzying kaleidoscope below him as he plummeted toward it. Landing hard on the ground on his good wing, he screeched in agony and rage.

Somewhere nearby he heard a female voice, shouting with both anger and concern. He knew he was going to lose consciousness soon, there was far too much blood pooling beneath him. Opening his eyes, he saw a petite blond girl hurrying toward him with an enormous blanket.

"Now, don't you go trying to bite or scratch me," she said softly, "or I won't be able to help you."

Someone was shouting at her to 'leave the filthy bird alone,' but she ignored them, tossing the blanket over him and then gathering it around his body. He didn't dare move; if he wanted to live, he knew he had to trust someone, and this girl seemed genuinely kind.

He felt gentle hands lifting and cradling him, and winced at the indignity of it all. He didn't have the energy to fight, however, and unlike wild owls, he knew that he would only injure himself further if he struggled.

"Wow, you really are hurt if you're not even fighting me," she said in wonder. "It's gonna be all right," the girl was crooning. "I'll take you to Dr. Jake and he'll fix you right up, I promise."

With a disgusted sigh, Jareth closed his eyes and stopped struggling to stay awake. At least he was safe, for the moment. He felt himself being placed in a cardboard box and then dimly heard the engine of a car start up. He knew he was going into shock. With one last half-hearted cluck, Jareth let his eyes fall closed and drifted off.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth awoke groggily to the sound of voices. Memories came flooding back, from the failed calling to his injury and subsequent crash landing. 'This is not,' he thought wryly, 'my day.' Gingerly he tested his wings and found that both were immobilized but the left one hurt a hell of a lot more than the right. Focusing on the voices from inside the small, dark box he currently inhabited, he strove to listen to what was being said.

"I swear, Jake, if those idiots don't stop shooting at everything that moves, I'm gonna find them and kill them myself! This is the second owl in six months they've shot out of the sky, not to mention the other defenseless birds they've killed!"

"Now, Lacey, remember what I told you. Stay out of it or you're gonna get yourself hurt. Let the police handle this," a smooth male voice replied. "At least I didn't have to amputate this one's wing."

Lacey sighed. "Yeah, poor Ziggy," she agreed. "Sarah sure loves him, though. She has a strange fascination with owls. Always has, as far as I know."

Jareth perked up at the mention of the name 'Sarah,' then he chastised himself for being a dolt. There were at least a million girls named Sarah in this world; there wasn't a chance in the seven circles that they were speaking of Sarah Williams… _his_ Sarah. Though he did know that Sarah now lived in this state… _Georgia_… he did not know exactly where in the state she was. The odds were still miniscule.

"If she loved me half as much as she loved her menagerie of animals, I'd be a happy man," Dr. Jake said ruefully. "But I suppose I should be happy to have her affections at all. Do you think she'll want to take this one in for his recuperation?"

"She wouldn't have it any other way," Lacey said with a laugh. "And don't you give up on her. I think she must have had some terribly tragic romance gone wrong in her past; you've gotten further with her than most, according to my mama."

Jake laughed appreciatively. "Yeah, well, that's not very far," he replied, then cringed. "I've asked her to marry me twice, and both times she's frozen up and said she can't. She _can't_. What's that mean, anyway?"

"Give her time, Jake," the girl said quietly. "The last thing she needs is you giving up on her. When are you going to take this new little guy over to her place?"

It sounded as though the veterinarian were moving closer to where Jareth waited in his box. "I almost hesitate to take him over there at all. She's not exactly in a position to take on another boarder, but if I don't and she finds out, she'll kill me. She seems to have a special affinity for birds of prey... owls, in particular, like you said."

"Tell me about it," Lacey agreed. "At least that baby eagle was able to be released back into the wild after only a few weeks. Look, my mom has been helping Sarah out a bit, whenever she can. I have some money in my savings, too, and I'll give her some, if she'll take it."

"She won't let _me_ help at all, unless it's medically related," Jake said, sounding irritated and admiring at the same time. "Even then, she insists on paying for their medication herself."

Suddenly the box opened and dim light illuminated Jareth's world. "Oh, look who's awake," Lacey said, smiling. "He seems pretty calm, doesn't he?"

"He's probably still a bit dazed from the sedative I gave him," Dr. Jake said, leaning closer. Jareth merely peered at him inquisitively, acting like the bird he appeared to be. "I think he's going to be just fine, after he heals."

"Great!" Lacey exclaimed. "Jake, why's one of his eyes different than the other? Does he have a concussion?"

"That's what I thought at first too," he said with a shrug. "But as far as I can tell, he's fine. It might just be from some previous injury, or he might have been born like that. Impossible to tell for sure."

"How soon are you going to take him over to Sarah's?"

Jake frowned slightly. "I'd like to keep him here for observation for a day or so, but then I think he'll be better off over there. She has everything she needs to make a comfortable environment for just about any creature she takes in, and she gives her animals a lot of attention and love."

"Yeah… Usually at the expense of her own comfort," Lacey agreed.

Jareth felt his eyes falling closed again. He was so tired... All he wanted to do was go home, but it appeared that he was in for a rather lengthy stay Aboveground. Ironically, it would be with someone named Sarah with an affinity for owls.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah Williams pulled on her beat-up boots and laced them up as her tabby cat watched. Snapping the scrunchy off her wrist, she gathered her long dark hair and twisted the band through once, then pulled her hair half-way through again, letting it fall haphazardly into a sloppy up-do that was more functional than decorative.

"Go eat your breakfast, Sherlock," she told the tabby, who had recently been neutered. "You know you can't come outside yet."

Stepping out into the hazy sunshine, she headed toward the barn. It was in better shape than the house, but then that's how Aunt Grace had wanted it, and Sarah agreed. She had moved to Georgia to help her aunt out three years ago. When Aunt Grace passed away, Sarah had been surprised to find that she had left everything to her only niece. So she had stayed, caring for the animals Grace had cared for and taking in new ones.

Work had been particularly stressful that day; waitressing was not her first choice but it paid the bills... sort of. More importantly, it gave her time and freedom to care for her menagerie. When she had the money, Sarah intended to go back to school and change majors; she wanted to be a veterinarian and have an office right here on the property. Unfortunately, she didn't have the money to do either, at the moment.

She much preferred this time of day, when she could come home and tend to her animals. If only she could get a paycheck for doing this! Opening the barn doors, she glanced with sorrow at the empty horse stalls. She simply couldn't afford to keep horses for too long, it was far too expensive. She had recently lost the only two she had; Skywalker had passed away after not being able to overcome a stomach disease he had contracted, but at least Blue had been adopted by a loving family.

However, she still had three goats, one pet cat, the aforementioned Sherlock, four feral cats, five chickens, a resident donkey named Bob, a pig named Wilbur, and her favorite, a barn owl she had named Ziggy. Plus, Jake had called her at work earlier to tell her that he was bringing over another owl whose wing had been damaged by some local idiots.

She went about her chores systematically but compassionately, both feeding the animals and giving them some much-needed attention. As always, Ziggy followed her around the barn as she worked, hopping from surface to surface, never willing to be far from her. He was a very affectionate owl, and at times Sarah almost wondered if he just might be... But no. That was ludicrous. The Goblin King was not trapped Aboveground missing one wing. It was just so disconcerting the way he always wanted to be near her.

No, she would never see _him_ again, of that she was certain. As she had said, he had no power over her. If he had, he would have come around by now to pester her, she was quite sure. The idea both comforted and troubled her. How had she been able to invoke such a rule? She was just an ordinary girl. She began to hum softly to herself, which Ziggy always seemed to enjoy. The goats were having a fit while she prepared their dinner.

The chickens seemed to be following her around tonight as well; they had accepted Ziggy as one of their own and it was endearing to watch him preen for them. A knock on the barn door startled her and she turned to see Jake standing there holding a cardboard box with holes cut out for air.

"Hi, Jake," she greeted him, hoping he wouldn't start grilling her again. Jake had proposed to her twice, the most recent attempt being the last time she saw him. To attempt a wordless apology, she went over and kissed him on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Hey, Sar," he returned awkwardly, setting the box down on a nearby table. She could hear clawed feet scurrying around inside. "I'm fine. I feel a bit… oh, you know… rejected, but I'll get over it. I did last time, didn't I?"

"Jake, I…"

He held up a hand. "You don't have to explain, honey. I had a feeling when I asked you that it was too soon. I just… I love you and I want to be with you."

Sarah cringed, glad he wasn't looking directly at her. No matter how many times he said he loved her, she found that she simply couldn't say it back. She had told him that he should find someone who would love him back, someone better for him than she was, but he adamantly said he would wait for her.

She moved closer, brushing her hands off on her T-shirt. It was safer if she just changed the subject. "So, this is my new boarder, huh?"

"Yep," he said, lifting the lid off as Sarah secured an arm guard around her forearm. "He's incredibly tame. I almost wonder if he's had human interaction before, but that would be extremely rare."

Sarah looked down into the box to see a very startled-looking owl. "Hey, you," she said softly, smiling at the bird. He _was_ beautiful. As she always did when seeing an owl, she felt a thrill of familiarity shoot through her. She quelled it, reminding herself of her earlier conclusion about Ziggy. Slowly lowering her arm into the box, she smiled when he didn't shy away. "I'm Sarah. And what are we going to call you?"

The owl willingly hopped up onto her arm, never breaking eye contact. He tilted his head to one side and continued to stare, as if fascinated by her. "Poor guy," she continued softly. "I'm going to take good care of you. You'll be flying again before you know it." She wanted to stroke his snowy breast but didn't dare if she wanted to keep her fingers. Maybe later, when she had gained his trust.

Jake laughed. "He can't understand you, you know."

"I know, but I can't help it," she explained with a light shrug. "I think that... regardless of if they understand or not, animals enjoy being talked to."

"Oh, and he could be here a while," Jake warned her. "He's got the wound in the left wing but the right is severely sprained; I think he fell on it. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sarah already felt a bond with the barn owl, quite possibly because of his strange eyes. Jake hadn't mentioned that one pupil was larger than the other. It had given her a bit of a chill, but then she had tamped down her reaction. "Of course I'm sure," she replied firmly. "I'm going to call him Bowie... You know, because of the whole bow and arrow thing, not to mention his eyes." She smiled at her own cleverness, noting that Ziggy was hopping around by her feet in a decidedly jealous manner. "You know how I love the Thin White Duke."

Jake shrugged. "Whatever."

"You know, sometimes I don't think you care as much about animals as you pretend to," she said, frowning. "A name is important, Jake." As she said the words, a voice whispered inside her head that if that was the case, she ought to name the owl 'Jareth'. She ignored the voice and focused on her erstwhile boyfriend.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just tired."

"And bitter," she added, not appeased.

Jake laughed. "Yeah, well, being rejected by the girl of my dreams tends to have that effect on me," he retorted lightly, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.

Sarah sighed. "We've been over this already, Jake."

"I know," he said, resigned. "Oh, by the way – you can pet him."

Startled, she looked up from the owl, who was still watching her intently. "I can? It took me over a month to be able to touch Ziggy without him trying to bite me."

"Well, like I said," Jake replied, reaching and stroking the owl's head. "It appears that he's somewhat tame… I almost wonder if he was someone's pet."

Carefully Sarah lifted her other hand and smoothed her fingers over Bowie's head, and he actually leaned into her hand. "Oh, my gosh..."

"I think he likes you," Jake observed leaning down to pet Ziggy. "What else is new? Is there a male of any species within a hundred mile radius that _doesn't_ like you?"

Sarah gave him a crooked smile but returned her attention to the bird of prey sitting calmly on her arm. "Yes. Mr. Spires at the market doesn't like me very much right now because I owe him money, and Lacey's dog doesn't like me because when I dog-sat him, I accidentally stepped on his tail."

"Well, I stand corrected," Jake teased. "Look, I'm sorry I was an ass just now. I could go over to the market and settle your account. It was probably all for the animals, anyway."

Sarah shook her head. "That's not necessary. I'll get paid in a few days."

"And you'll need to pay other bills and buy more groceries and feed and supplies... Come on, Sarah, let me do this. Consider it a donation to help with the animals," he said, his eyes serious. "Let me do it for Bowie and Ziggy."

She sighed. "Okay, if it means that much to you," she relented. "I feel bad with everyone trying to help me pay for things, though. Lynne and Lacey are always giving me money and supplies, too."

"Because they care about animals as much as you do," he reasoned. "It's their way of contributing to a good cause. You're not getting help to pay for unnecessary things, Sarah, you're getting assistance to care for animals who need your help. There's a difference. Doing this kind of work... well, it's wonderful, but it's not cheap."

"I know," she replied, giving him a smile. "Thanks, Jake."

"Don't mention it," he said offhandedly. "I'd do anything for you, Sarah. You know that. All you have to do is ask."

Nodding, Sarah averted her gaze. "I know that, too. But, Jake... I can't..."

"Oh, don't worry," he interrupted. "I'm just a glutton for punishment, that's all. Look, I'm going to head on over to Spires and settle up with him. Do you need anything else?"

"No," she replied firmly. "Trust me, that's enough. I owe him almost a hundred and fifty dollars."

"It's not a problem," Jake assured her, heading to his truck. "Oh, and Bowie's already eaten. He gobbled down two mice this morning. He still has a pretty light appetite for now."

Sarah didn't follow him out; she stayed in the barn, unable to take her eyes off her new boarder. Why did Jake have to bring up their flailing relationship every time they talked? With a mental shrug, she moved over to the box Bowie had been brought over in. She pulled a soft, warm blanket off a shelf and lined the bottom of the box with it, then gently set him down inside. He hopped off her arm rather reluctantly and peered disdainfully at Ziggy, who had followed Sarah over like a dog.

"I hope you two will be able to get along," she said, and stood up to remove the arm guard. "Ziggy, you be nice. Bowie is new around here. You can show him the ropes. And Bowie, please note that Ziggy only has one wing. You have an advantage already, so _be nice_. I'll see you boys in the morning."

As she headed over to the barn door, she could have sworn she heard Bowie scoff at her words.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth sat in the darkened box, completely stunned. Ignoring the idiotic Ziggy, who was attempting to hop into the box with him, he went over the last few minutes in his mind. How on earth had he ended up in Sarah Williams' care? Even though he had known she was living in this state, it was still highly coincidental to end up here, with her. This changed everything.

True, he had no power over her, but she certainly had power over him… especially now. He wasn't even able to choose to revert back to his true form; it would likely begin happening _randomly_ as he healed, but his power was tied intrinsically to his ability to fly, so for a while, at least, he was in trouble.

Fate must have wanted their paths to cross again... either fate or the Labyrinth. It had, after all, chosen her as its queen and stubbornly refused to relent. She was as good as crowned. The only reason she had been allowed to come back Aboveground was because she was so young at the time, and she had also somehow stumbled upon the words to free herself from him. But he was bound to her and unable to marry another unless the Labyrinth decided otherwise. Perhaps this was its way of forcing the issue.

Jareth had been resistant to going Aboveground and staking his claim on Sarah. He had hoped that she would call to him, but as time went on, he had despaired that she never would. It grew easier and easier to simply let her be. He wanted her to be happy, that was all that mattered to him, and yet, if she remained in her world for much longer she would grow old and die. Truly, it was not her world any longer, but she didn't know that. He simply couldn't bear to be the one to drag her back to the Underground.

Her rejection had stung, but it had shown him that she could never love him. She had been far too young to be made queen, but the Labyrinth had disagreed with him. He had had no control over it, but he was sure that Sarah would never believe that. He was absolutely certain that, given the chance, she would reject him again… he wasn't at all sure his heart could take it.

Jareth roused himself, bringing his thoughts back to the present. He hadn't failed to notice the way her eyes had widened at the sight of him, but then she seemed to regroup. Naturally she would brush off any idea of their paths crossing again; she might even believe her whole experience to have been a dream.

Most disturbing of all was this 'Dr. Jake'. He seemed intent on marrying Sarah, but technically she was already married and bonded to Jareth. She was a queen, and even though she didn't know it, she was not free to marry another. He cringed inwardly, wondering how she would take to_ that_ particular piece of news.

Suddenly exhausted beyond reason, Jareth huddled down into the blanket Sarah had provided. Ziggy had finally wandered off, presumably to his own bed. In his perusal of the barn, Jareth had noticed the 'winding staircase' of a perch that Sarah had for the incapacitated bird.

It wasn't yet dark outside, but Jareth felt his eyes growing heavy anyway. The sooner he allowed himself to rest and heal, the sooner he could get out of here and go home, provided Sarah didn't find out his true identity and throw him out sooner. It should prove to be an interesting time…


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah lay awake for a long time after she crawled into bed, closely followed by Sherlock. She'd had to resist the urge to go back out to the barn and look at the new owl again. There was something different about him. Owls in general were neither tame nor tamable. Even ones that had been in captivity for years such as birds in shows at wild animal parks and refuges were unpredictable and dangerous.

Ziggy was an exception to the rule and even he had taken a long time to tolerate her touch. It was possible though that he had at one time been in a wildlife preserve and accustomed to human touch, and he had only had to adjust to a new set of humans, not humans in general. That was Jake's theory, anyway.

Jake. She wished he would give up on her. He was a great guy, and they had so much in common. She ought to love him, but she found that no matter how much time they spent together and how terrific he was, her affection never turned to love. It was frustrating to Sarah that she had never been in love. She didn't feel incapable of love in general, just unable to love the men that had loved her. She had no problem loving her family and close friends, so why did romantic love continue to elude her?

The Goblin King had been the first man she had ever turned down. She had been fascinated by him from the moment she saw him, but what she had felt for him was awe, nothing more. He was as unattainable as a movie star or singer. She had romanticized him, and obviously he had to have known it, for he had used it against her in the end. Even if he had been sincere, however, her objective had been to get Toby back within the allotted amount of time, and she had done that.

Why was she thinking of him now, anyway? He had nothing to do with her relationship problems. Ah, but that wasn't entirely true. She thought of the dreams she had of him… dreams in which they were together. At times it was as if she was dreaming of what could have been, and in her dreams, she felt she loved the Goblin King deeply and truly. But in her waking hours, the feeling went away and the dreams were relegated to the back of her mind.

Her mind circled back to the owl. He really ought to be called Jareth, her mind said stubbornly. It felt ridiculous, naming an owl after a king from a land created in a book, but it also felt… _right._ With a relenting sigh, she decided she would give _him_ the choice when she saw him the next morning.

Turning on her side, she beat the lumps out of her pillow. She was losing it. She couldn't love a man who loved her with all his heart but she cared enough about the appropriateness of an owl's name that she was going to _discuss_ it with said owl. As ridiculous as it sounded, she just didn't care. There was something different about that owl.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth awoke to find himself burrowed deep under the blanket. He was quite comfortable and didn't care to move even though daylight filtered through the windows. He could hear sounds of the animals waking and starting up a clamor; clearly they expected Sarah at any moment. His heart sped up in anticipation.

The barn door swung open and Sarah entered, wearing ratty blue jeans and a white T-shirt, a man's flannel shirt her only concession to the chill of the morning. Jareth watched her through an air hole in the box. Despite her appalling apparel and lack of makeup, she looked quite beautiful.

"Hello, everyone," she greeted in general, moving over to the goats' pen. Opening it, she gestured toward the open barn door. "Okay, lawn-mowers, out you go." They obeyed, bleating at her as they trotted past.

Sarah walked over to Ziggy, who was dancing on his perch. "How are you, Ziggy? Did you stay here all night? Didn't you get cold, huh? You know your blanket's on the floor."

Ziggy replied with a series of unintelligible hoots and Sarah laughed as if she understood him. "Oh, Zig, you're such a smart-ass," she said with humor. The bird's eyelids were closing, however, and as soon as Sarah moved away he appeared to fall asleep. "Lazy," she scolded.

Jareth, however, kept to the same routine he was used to in his regular form; he was not nocturnal, even as an owl. At least that way, he wouldn't have to deal too much with the other bird, who appeared to want to be friends.

Grabbing a pail, Sarah threw out handfuls of grain for the chickens, which began to peck contentedly at her feet. _Finally_, setting down the pail, Sarah moved over and bent down over his box. "And good morning to you, sleepyhead," she greeted him. "How was your first night here? Pretty soon, you'll be sleeping all day long, just like Ziggy."

Jareth roused himself and shook off the blanket, ignoring the pain it caused his wings. He saw that Sarah was slipping on the arm guard and waited patiently for her to offer him a lift. He climbed on and she rose gently, letting him off on a tall perch. "How's that?"

He bobbed his head once and she froze. "Coincidence," she said, still staring at him. "You did_ not_ just bob your head at me for a reason. Did you?"

Jareth didn't move, afraid to startle her so soon. Her green eyes were wide with surprise as she waited for him to answer her again. She would find out soon enough that he was no ordinary owl, but for the time being he thought it best to let her think he was. He had no idea how she would react upon finding out she was sheltering the Goblin King.

"Of course not, Sarah, do not be silly," she replied to herself in an affected accent that sounded suspiciously like him. Seeming relieved, she went on, "Now… I know I just sort of freaked out when I thought maybe you'd answered me, but… I have a question for you."

He waited, his curiosity intensely piqued. She was talking to him as if she knew he understood every word; why had she been surprised when he responded? But then, he had heard her talking to all the other animals as well; it didn't mean she expected a conversation from them.

"The thing is, I said yesterday that I was going to call you Bowie," she went on slowly, looking self-conscious. "But, you see… You don't look so much like a Bowie, even though there are good reasons for calling you that. You seem more… regal than that… not that Bowie's not completely _hot_ enough to be regal," she added almost as a side note to herself, biting her lip with a small smile. Jareth felt himself ruffling up with jealousy at her words and chided himself silently. "The thing is," she went on, back on track, "you remind me of… someone. You should be flattered, really. I mean, h-he's a king."

Jareth stilled for a moment and then tilted his head at her. His heart sped up and he felt himself dance back and forth a bit on the perch despite the discomfort it caused. He felt like Ziggy, a complete and total ass of a bird. But… she was talking about _him_! She remembered him, and maybe even on some level, suspected who he was! Hope swelled in his chest and he thought he might just explode. He bobbed his head once to show her she had his attention.

Sarah laughed. "Well, you think a lot of yourself, don't you, to want to have a king's name. But… I'm the one who brought it up, and you're right. Bowie doesn't suit you at all. So… what do you think of the name… Jareth?" She practically whispered his name and glanced around as if fearing his imminent appearance. It was too bad he couldn't oblige her, stuck as he was in owl form.

He straightened and puffed out his chest to show his approval. Laughing again, she replied, "Well, call me crazy, but it seems to me you like it. So… Jareth it is."

Jareth remained excited even after Sarah left the barn, and shortly thereafter left the premises in her vehicle. He was considerably heartened that she remembered him and didn't seem to hate him as he had always suspected she would. That she was willing to name him 'Jareth' and use that name – _his_ name – had a deliciously beautiful irony about it.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Each day that Sarah tended to Jareth, she felt more attached to him. There was some sort of bond between them that she didn't understand. He watched her every move and he always acted reluctant to hop off her arm. Jake came by daily to check on his wound, but it was clear that the owl did not like the veterinarian.

One day, Jake had taken Sarah into his arms and kissed her. Jareth had gone berserk, flapping his relatively good wing, which was no longer bound, and screeching in a threatening manner. As soon as Jake released her, he had settled right down, though he still looked ruffled.

Sarah had had animals be possessive and jealous before. When she was eighteen, she had gone out on a date with a guy she'd met at the library, and when he brought her home, Merlin had come from the back yard, barking and snarling at the poor guy. Of course, Merlin was an elderly dog by that time, and he had grown to be more and more protective of Sarah until the day he died.

She had been taking a lot of night shifts at the diner so that she could spend time taking care of the animals during the day. It had become her habit to be out in the barn cleaning up, and she would talk to both Jareth and Ziggy, but she never got the impression that Ziggy understood a word, whereas Jareth sometimes narrowed her eyes at her if he appeared not to like what he heard. She knew she was being fanciful and absurd, and yet she couldn't bring herself to disregard him.

Sometimes she strapped on the arm guard and took Jareth outside to sit on a fence post in the sunshine. He always appeared to enjoy this and to coo gratefully at her. That was another odd thing. After his first few nights, in which he obviously needed his rest, he should have started sleeping during the day, as Ziggy did.

That fact in itself made her question the situation. He was wide awake every morning when she went out to the barn. When she would check on him at night, he would be sleeping soundly while Ziggy hopped around, wide awake and pecking at his food and water.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth could feel himself healing, but it wasn't happening fast enough for his satisfaction. Even so, he had once changed forms during the night. He couldn't control it. If it happened again and Sarah walked in, it would be quite an interesting scene. Still, he no longer feared that she would cast him out. Whatever her feelings for him currently were, if any, they did not include unreasoning hatred.

He had now been Aboveground for a week and a half. Sarah had been spending more and more time out in the barn, and she talked to him a great deal. He was careful to keep his reactions to a minimal, but when that moronic veterinarian had grabbed her and kissed her, he had wanted to rip the man's eyes out with his talons! She was _his_ wife, _his _queen.

Sarah had not seemed pleased at the man's attentions, but she had been more than concerned about Jareth, he remembered happily. She had asked 'Jake' to leave, and had rushed to his side to run her hands over him, smoothing his feathers and whispering to him softly.

He feared that the time was drawing near when all would be revealed, and he wasn't nearly healed enough to use his magic and leave. It was not an appealing prospect to startle Sarah, and he wondered what exactly her reaction would be…

He had a feeling he wouldn't have to wait too much longer to find out.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah stared at Jake, her mouth hanging open. "You're kidding me," she said.

"I'm afraid not, Sar," he replied. "I got the call first thing this morning. You know that I have to report every bird of prey that I treat, along with any endangered species. They gave you thirty days, no more, and then they're going to take Ziggy and Bowie away."

"Jareth," she said with a frown, chewing on her thumbnail. "I renamed him Jareth."

"Well, whatever his name is," Jake continued. "They have to go to a wild life preserve. I know they kind of let it slide when it was just Ziggy, because of his missing wing. But Sarah, they won't let you keep two."

A rising panic was making her feel shaky and nervous. Sure, she didn't want to lose the owls, but why this overwhelming sense of dread? "What do I have to do to keep them?" she asked.

Jake looked taken aback. "I'm not sure… Uh… Get registered as a reserve yourself, I reckon, maybe have an on-call vet…"

"Well, I have you," she pointed out. "What's involved in becoming a reserve?"

"Sarah," he replied calmly. "It's not worth it. It's just a couple of birds. They'll be well-taken care of. It'll especially be better for the new one. It's not like they're doomed to be put to sleep."

"Still, I'm going to look into it," she insisted.

He sighed. "And where are you going to get the money? You have to have money for licensing and who knows what else, and have a reliable and steady stream of income… Sarah. Be realistic."

"I have a month, right?" she said, pacing in Jake's barn. "I'm going to check into it, at least. Maybe I could be a satellite reserve."

Jake smiled, and she knew he was thinking she was crazy. "If it were that simple, they would have suggested it themselves. They're adamant about coming to take Ziggy and Jared away."

"_Jareth,"_ she said, more stridently than she'd meant to. "Sorry. I'm a little on edge."

"I know," he acknowledged, giving her a hug.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

When Sarah got home, she found Lacey sitting on her front porch steps. "Hey, Lace," she greeted her young friend, getting out of her dented, rusting Jeep. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, just thought I'd stop by and see Jareth." Lacey stood. "I heard about the wildlife reserve wanting to take the owls. I'm so sorry."

Sarah nodded, knowing she was taking it far harder than she should. "Yeah, well, we might be able to find a way to keep them… I told Jake I was going to look into what I have to do to keep them with me."

"You're serious?" Lacey said. "Sarah, I know you're kind of attached to Ziggy, but maybe he'd be better off with experts. And the new one…"

"I know it sounds crazy," Sarah interrupted, "but I feel like he _belongs_ with me."

Lacey narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Ziggy, right?"

"Well, yeah… him too," she acknowledged. "But… Jareth. There's something about him. I don't know what it is, but I just can't let him go to a reserve. I won't."

Shaking her head, Lacey headed for the barn. "That sounds nutty, Sarah, you do realize that, right?"

"I just said I knew it did," Sarah retorted, following her friend. "I can't explain it, but I just know that if they take him away, it'll be… I mean he… they just _can't._"

"He'd be better off, Sar," Lacey said reasonably. "They have everything an owl's heart can desire there, not to mention medical care and a warmer place to sleep. The weather is going to change soon. What are you going to do, let him sleep inside your house? Ziggy's fine; he's a healthy bird. But Bowie… with his injuries, he needs a warmer bed."

"Jareth," Sarah said distractedly. She frowned. If her increasing suspicion was correct and he was the Goblin King in avian form, he probably _would_ end up sleeping in her house. She shivered, whether in fear or anticipation she wasn't sure. "Yeah, that's what Jake said too. But I can't help but feel that he's better off with _me_."

"Irrational," Lacey sang.

Ignoring her, Sarah walked over to Jareth. The owl's eyes followed her as she moved toward him. There had to be a reason she felt so drawn to him, so completely desperate to protect him. If she were honest with herself, she knew she would miss Ziggy, but she could let him go. But Jareth… she would fight tooth and nail to keep him with her.

"Hey, Jareth," she greeted him softly.

Lacey came over to stand at her side. "I think he has a wittle cwush on you."

Sarah laughed out loud. "Right, Lace," she said, rolling her eyes. Glancing at Jareth, she saw that he was glaring at her friend in blatant indignation. A moment ago, he'd been docile and calm, but now his chest was puffed out, his feathers standing up all over, and his eyes stormy.

"I'm serious," Lacey insisted, pointing at Jareth. "Look at him, he's all pissed off, like I've spoiled his little secret or something. And the way you act about him, I'd say the creepiness is mutual."

"It's not creepy," Sarah replied defensively. "I just feel very strongly about taking care of him, okay? And maybe he doesn't like the smell of your perfume or something. Who knows? If you're so creeped out, maybe you should head on home."

Lacey held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just razzing you, Sar, _geez_! I don't want to go home just yet. All that's waiting for me is a stack of ironing Mom's making me do."

Any other time, Sarah would have been grateful for the company. Right now, though, she didn't want anyone around. Rolling her eyes, Sarah said, "Okay, if you're going to hang around and shirk your duties at home, then make yourself useful _here_," she instructed, knowing what she was about to say would send her little friend packing. "Grab a shovel and clean up after the goats."

"Ugh, no way," Lacey replied, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "You know… I just remembered. I've got a date with Matt tonight. I've gotta go get ready. Bye, Sar!" she called, already out the door and to her truck.

Turning back to Jareth, Sarah sighed. "She was only kidding," she explained. "What she said is ridiculous. You're an _owl_, right? You like little lady owls, I'm sure. Not me… I'm just a boring human. Maybe if we got a cute little female owl in here then you'd have a crush. But you'd have competition, because of ol' Ziggy there."

Sarah knew she was rambling, but at this point, she was desperate to prove to herself that Jareth was just an owl. The more she treated him as one, however, the more uncannily unowlish he seemed.

He stared at her, his plumage gradually returning to normal. Bobbing his head once, he danced from one foot to the other on the perch. Sarah licked her lips nervously. He was watching her so intently that it was unsettling. Maybe he _wasn't _just an owl. Hmm.

"Listen," she said apprehensively, "We have a bit of a problem, and I'm not sure what to do about it, so I need your help."

Jareth tilted his head inquisitively and an odd shiver of recognition traveled down her spine. Which was preposterous, because that's what owls did, was tilt their heads. Still, it was so _familiar_…

Continuing, she said, "There's this wildlife reserve that specializes in birds of prey. Jake has to report any owls he tends to or even euthanizes, among other creatures… and… well, when he reported tending to you, they said they were going to come and _get _you… take you away from here… in a month. Do you understand?"

She couldn't tell if he comprehended her words or not, and she felt somewhat foolish, but she had to be sure. If he really was _just_ an owl, then she would have no choice but to let him go, difficult as it would be. It was a huge fight to take on, and she didn't have the resources or the time if he really was what he appeared to be. If, however, he was the Goblin King... She sighed. Maybe Lacy was right and she was going crazy.

"If you're just an _ordinary_ owl… and _nothing more_, just go ahead and ignore me," she said slowly, watching him carefully. "But if you're… if you're _different_… if you recognize me and know me and can turn into a human… or whatever you are… then you're going to have to give me some kind of a sign so I know what to do here."

He continued to regard her almost carelessly, and didn't bob his head or wink at her or anything. Perhaps he was just an owl, after all. Or possibly he was debating whether or not to reveal himself to her, for fear of what she might do. "Through dangers untold," she whispered, feeling foolish, "and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here, to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back the child that you have stolen."

Jareth went completely still on the perch, his eyes boring into hers so intently it was almost as though he were glaring at her angrily. She held her breath, waiting. He looked – and she had no idea how she could tell this in an _owl's _expression – almost as if she were bringing up an unpleasant memory. Well, she had to say _something_ to get his attention.

"Jareth. If you're the Goblin King, nod your head twice."

He seemed to deliberate for a very long moment. Sarah didn't move her eyes from him; she tried not to even blink. Finally, he bobbed his head once, then twice, very deliberately. She released a shaky breath and laughed nervously.

"That was just a coincidence, wasn't it? I mean, it _could_ be a coincidence… Okay, I know," she said, snapping her fingers, desperate to be proven wrong. "I'll ask you some questions, and you can either nod or shake your head, depending on your answer, okay? If you're just an ordinary owl, you won't know the difference between nodding and shaking. Okay, rambling. Sorry."

He tilted his head at her again and flapped his good wing gently, as if to prod her along. Feeling completely insane, fearful and hopeful all at the same time, Sarah nodded.

"Okay, then. So you're the Goblin King," she said, tapping her chin. "Do you live in the castle beyond the Goblin City?"

Two nods. Yes.

Another coincidence? It would be uncanny, but she supposed it were possible. Perhaps Jareth had a nervous tick. Her arms broke out in gooseflesh. Her heart racing, Sarah asked, "Are you here because someone wished a child away?"

Two nods again. Yes.

"Holy moly," she whispered, pressing a hand to her beating heart. "All right… Do you know who I am?"

Jareth nodded twice, emphatically, as if to say, _'Oh, you bet I do.'_

"Is my name Tara?" she asked, knowing it sounded close to Sarah.

Very slowly, Jareth shook his head left, right, left. No. He narrowed her eyes at her, as if he was offended that she thought he might fall for something like that.

"Is it Kara?" she prodded.

A very deliberate left, right, left.

"Right. Um…" Feeling she might hyperventilate, Sarah licked her lips. "Can you change form? Right now, I mean. Could you turn into a man?"

Once again, his head went left, then right, then left again. No.

"Can you use your magic at all?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Left. Right. Left. No magic.

"_Jareth,"_ she went on, infusing far more meaning into his name than she had before. "That's your real name, isn't it?"

Two deliberate nods. A strange, calculating gleam that belonged to no bird came into his eyes then.

Trembling, Sarah backed away. She had the freakin' _Goblin King_ in her _barn_. He knew who she was, but he wasn't able to change forms. He couldn't use his magic at all right now. But what if he was lying? That look in his eyes… it terrified her. She continued to walk backward, keeping him in sight the entire time. He was watching her curiously, hooting softly as though trying to allay her fears and call her back. Feeling as if she might be sick, Sarah stepped out and closed the barn doors, ignoring his increasingly loud calls for her to return.

She hurried into the house and locked her door, not that it would do any good, and sank down on her lumpy couch. Her entire body was trembling all over and she felt chilled to the bone. Sherlock immediately climbed into her lap, kneading and purring.

The Goblin King was _here_, and the wild life reserve wanted to take him away in a month's time. Would he heal by then, and be able to use his magic? Would he be able to return to his world? In the meantime, would he attempt to take revenge on her? She didn't think so, but knowing that her hunch was true made everything suddenly so… real, and therefore frightening.

True, she'd had her suspicions all along, but she had fully expected them to be disproved. They were more of a fanciful imagining than anything she expected to become reality. It was unbelievable that he had been _here_ to take away a child, and gotten shot with a bow and arrow in _her town_, found by _her friend_, and treated by _her_ sort-of boyfriend veterinarian, before coming to _her_ barn for rehabilitation.

Had he orchestrated the whole thing? But then, why would he do that? Why would he possibly cause himself deliberate injury and how could he possibly have known he would end up with her? Her mind was awhirl with confusing and frightening questions, but what kept coming back again and again was the fact that the Goblin King was in her barn, trapped in owl form, waiting for her to come back. It was simply too much to wrap her mind around. She was very suddenly exhausted. Leaning over, Sarah rested her head on the arm of the couch and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: As I've mentioned, my old moniker was FaeriesMidwife. I used to have quite a few stories posted here, but I removed them some time back. My beta reader had a number of them that she was able to send me, and I'm going to be slowly going through them and reposting. However, there were probably at least 20-25 other stories that she didn't beta for me and thus didn't have saved in her email archives. If anyone has anything of mine saved in a sharable format, I would be most grateful if you would PM me and let me know. Thanks!

And now, on with A'Chomraich

Jareth slept very restlessly indeed. When Sarah hadn't returned, he had hopped down to the table below his perch, then down into his box. It had caused quite a bit of pain, moving around like that. He supposed he couldn't blame her; she must wonder what he was doing here, must be suspicious. In her situation, he would be distrustful as well. Even he doubted the possibility that it was all coincidental, so Sarah probably thought he was here, bent on revenge. It was just the sort of melodramatic idea she would conjure, but it was disheartening all the same. It proved that she really had no clue how he felt about her.

He attempted to sleep, but wasn't able to burrow deep enough into the blanket to ward off the chill. Shivering, he tried again, grasping the edge of the blanket with his beak and yanking upward. Failing, he squawked in frustration but as he did so, he felt the change starting to take place. Seconds later, he stood in the middle of the barn in his full Goblin King armor, his injured arm and shoulder exceedingly painful. Though the bindings returned when he reverted to owl form, in this form he had no protection for the wound. At least he was fully dressed and therefore somewhat warmer.

Hungry, thirsty and in pain, he almost left the barn to go knock on Sarah's door, but given her reaction earlier, that probably wasn't the best idea. He frowned. It said a lot about how he felt about her that he didn't wish to startle her any further and was thus willing to sleep on a cold barn floor. Besides that, truthfully, he was simply too exhausted to deal with a woman in hysterics.

The last time this had happened around dawn and he had merely waited it out and stayed awake until he changed back. But tonight he was just too tired, and he had to get some sleep if he wanted his arm to continue healing. There was nothing for it but to get as comfortable as he possibly could under the circumstances.

With distaste he pulled the smelly blanket out of the box and settled into a corner of the barn, draping the inadequate cover over himself with his good arm. He fell asleep quickly but his slumber was plagued with dreams in which Sarah rejected him in every manner possible. In one, she even found him in the barn in his 'human' form, after which she screamed in terror and ran out into the night.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah woke up with a crick in her neck and a splitting headache. Her coffee maker was beeping and she gratefully made her way into the kitchen to pour a cup before heading to the bathroom for a shower. She added cream and sweetener and carried it with her into the bedroom where she pulled off her clothes and dropped them into the hamper.

Halfway through her shower she recalled the events of the previous night. Had she been dreaming? No, it wasn't a dream. The _Goblin King_ – in owl form – was injured and in her barn. She hadn't even helped him down into his box. Although knowing who he was, she really ought to have offered him a place inside the house. Feeling terribly guilty, she hurriedly dried her hair and dressed, downing the remains of her coffee in two gulps. She brushed her teeth, threw on Jake's flannel shirt, and went outside.

Outside the barn doors, she hesitated. She would have to apologize, that was for sure. No matter what, it would not leave a good impression on him that she left him alone and cold overnight in her barn! He would probably be miffed with her, and rightfully so.

She opened the barn doors and stepped inside, immediately greeted by the barn's residents. Her eyes went to Jareth's perch, but he wasn't there. She hurried over to peer inside his box, but it was empty.

"Jareth?" she called. "Where are you?"

A quick search of the barn told her that he wasn't there anywhere. How had he gotten out? She had left the door securely closed and locked, and there were no open windows; they were all shuttered and latched because of the cool evenings.

Ignoring the ruckus of the animals, she hurried back outside, her heart racing. Where _was_ he? She glanced around, shielding her eyes from the sun, but didn't see him. He wasn't healed enough to fly, so what the hell was going on?

The only way he could have possibly gotten out was if he had walked out. That way he could have relocked the doors until his return. If he had walked out of here, that meant he had lied to her. And if he had lied to her, then that must mean that he had an ulterior motive. What if he was lurking inside her house right now, waiting to surprise her when she went back in?

Suddenly afraid, she decided it might be a good time to drive into town, pick up a newspaper and sit at the coffee shop reading it. She would treat herself to pancakes, and then _maybe_ she would feel fortified enough to come back and deal with this strange situation… maybe.

Her keys were in her Jeep, her wallet in the glove compartment. All she had to do was walk over and get in as quickly and quietly as possible and –

"Sarah." The voice was so soft she almost didn't hear it. If she kept going, she could pretend that she hadn't. It wasn't too late.

But she stopped, her feet stuck to the ground. She didn't answer, however; she simply waited. Perhaps it had been her imagination after all. Maybe she was just overly sensitive to the odd events of last night.

"Do not panic," the hauntingly familiar voice continued. "Just… Turn around."

She obeyed, partly out of curiosity and partly because of the firm tone of the speaker. Taking her time, she closed her eyes and slowly turned toward the voice, opening her eyes a fraction at a time until she beheld the Goblin King, standing in front of her barn, one hand on his hip, the other hanging limply at his side.

"Oh…" she said, for lack of anything spectacularly intelligent or witty.

"Hello, Sarah," he said dryly, unmoving.

She swallowed, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Peeling it away, she bit it to produce saliva, and finally said, "You said… or rather implied… that you couldn't change forms."

"I cannot do so deliberately," he replied. "I have no control over it."

Sarah frowned. "Why not?" she asked, feeling that this was a far cry from the conversation she had imagined they would have, given that they ever met again.

He smiled slightly. "Your inquisitiveness outweighs your fear," he observed. "That is good. You have nothing to fear from me, Sarah. For one thing, I have no power over you," he said, his tone lightly teasing. "For another, I do not wish to harm you as you are the only person who can help me. To answer your question, my magic is linked to my ability to fly. Until I am healed, I am stuck here, I'm afraid."

Sarah studied him. His words were casual enough, yet she could hear the underlying tension in his voice; he was wondering if she would send him away. Where would he go? He knew no one here. No one would understand his reverting to owl form and back again uncontrollably. No one would understand his haughty, sarcastic manner, either. No one but her.

"I see," she said evenly, proud that she hadn't fainted or vomited or both. "What are you doing here?"

"As you guessed last night, I was here because of a wished-away child. The calling went terribly awry, however, and please do not request the details because it will tarnish your memories of my gloriously terrifying stint when you wished away Toby," he said with some humor, then went on. "At any rate, as I was attempting to fly away, I was struck down by an arrow, as you know. Inglorious, yes. Most definitely not my finest hour, but I suppose sharing it with the conqueror of my Labyrinth is not too painful."

Sarah bit her lip. "I'm sorry you were injured, and I'm sorry you're stuck here," she began. "You must—"

He interrupted swiftly, clearly wishing to be the one in control of the situation, impossible as that was. "If you wish it, Sarah, say the word and I shall leave at once. I do not wish to inconvenience you in any way, and I realize that when we last met I did little to engender your goodwill."

"You can't _go_ anywhere!" she said incredulously, looking him up and down. Despite his regalia, he looked worse for the wear – dusty, tattered, and… "You're bleeding!"

"So it would seem," he agreed, glancing down at his injured shoulder.

She moved forward then, for some reason no longer afraid of him but still battling the feeling of surrealism. It was as though Wonderland had come to Alice, rather than the other way around. Or, she thought with irony, the Labyrinth had come to Sarah. She smiled a little.

"My injury amuses you? Or merely pleases you?" he questioned, a scowl on his handsome face. "Both, perhaps?"

Taken aback, Sarah felt chastened. "Neither," she said. "I was just thinking how strange it is that you're here. Don't _you_ think it's odd? I mean, did you even know I lived in Georgia?"

"I did not," he replied curtly, as though offended that she would imply he had kept tabs on her.

To ease his mind, because honestly she hadn't assumed such a thing at all, she said, "No, I wouldn't think so. So… in light of that, doesn't it seem strangely coincidental that you ended up here, in my town… in my _barn_?"

"It is exceedingly strange," he agreed, again very shortly. Sarah wondered what he wasn't telling her.

She shook herself. "Well, come inside the house and let me look at your shoulder, then. I think I have some things that'll fit you. Jake's about your size."

He hadn't made a move to follow her. When she turned to see what was holding him up, he was scowling. "The odious veterinarian has clothing at your house?"

"Well, he's out here a lot, and sometimes his clothes get dirty or… bloody. So it's convenient to have a change of clothes here," she replied, feeling defensive but hoping she didn't sound it. She headed for the front door again.

"And what makes you think I wish to wear _his_ clothing?" he asked caustically, finally moving toward the house.

She stopped and turned around, and he nearly bumped into her. Recovering from the surprise of having him so close, she sighed. "Because I get a lot of visitors out here, and you're going to be _seen_. We're going to have to come up with a reason why you're here, but it would best if you at least look as though you belong." Glancing up at his hair, she gestured pointedly. "Which includes a new hairstyle for you."

"You wish to change my hair?" he asked, affronted.

She smiled. "Jareth, we don't get many glam-rockers in these parts… we never have. And to be honest, it's pretty much out of style for just about _anywhere_ these days."

Jareth stepped into her house and glanced around, seeming taken aback. Distractedly, he said, "So, my hair is not considered attractive here? It requires… modernizing?"

Sarah considered. In all honesty, she thought he looked pretty hot, but that was because she had fantasized about him for years after her return home. No need to let him in on that, however. Instead, she said, "It suits you, I'll give you that. But while you're here, it's going to create a lot of negative attention, let's put it that way. Your eyes, however… I don't know what to do about them."

"You mean, it would be better if I looked thus?" he asked. When she turned around, he was completely transformed. His hair was much shorter, and spiky. A neatly trimmed goatee adorned his chin, and the dramatic look was gone from his eyes. He looked… human, except for the Goblin King attire.

"H-how did you do that?" she asked, swallowing hard and trying not to let him see how devastatingly attractive she found him in this look. "I… I thought you couldn't _use_ your magic."

He shrugged his good shoulder. "This is me; it is how I normally appear. I employed a glamour just now so that you would recognize me from your time Underground. I can affect many looks, all with the use of very minimal effort… not really magic at all, it is merely part of who I am," he explained. Beginning to move his hand in front of his face, he said, "If this one displeases you, I can show you others—"

She held up a hand to stop him, unable to imagine him any hotter than he already was. "No! I mean, no need to show me any more options. You look perfect… I mean, you look fine, you'll fit right in. It's… you know. It's adequate."

The ghost of a smile quirked his lips. "Ah. I'm glad to be viewed by you as _adequate_, Sarah."

"Yeah," she remarked, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under his perceptive scrutiny. "So… let me get you some clothes, but first… do you want me to look at your shoulder? How long do you think you'll stay in this… form?"

He said, "There is no way to be sure, but I suspect that I may remain this way for a while. It feels rather… permanent. I believe that what was missing before was your knowledge of my identity. Now that you know it's me, there is no reason for me to be changed back."

Hoping he didn't see how relieved she was that he didn't think he would be haphazardly growing and losing wings and feathers, she said, "Okay, so, ah… If you take off your armor and shirt, I'll bandage your shoulder. Or do you need help?"

. "I do not expect you to do that, Sarah," Jareth frowned as he moved his good arm in an attempt to remove his armor.

"Well, do you think you can handle it yourself? If you do, I'll show you to the bathroom and the supplies, and you can take care of it," she replied, thinking that it would make him feel vulnerable if he allowed her to assist him. "Look, let me show you where it is, so you don't have to undress in front of me."

He regarded her, amused. "It does not bother _me_," he informed her dryly. "Does it make _you_ uncomfortable, Sarah?"

"Of course not," she scoffed, but turned away all the same, intending to give him some privacy.

"Good," he said, serious. "Because I am unable to do this on my own, I am afraid. My arm is still rather… useless."

She turned to face him. "Oh, um… okay." Moving closer, she listened as he explained how to remove his armor. She found the fastenings to his breastplate and laboriously undid each one, tiny intricate hooks that went from his navel to his chest. Being so close to him brought the feelings of surrealism back full force. Once the heavy article was removed, she unbuttoned his black silk shirt, which was drenched with blood from his injured shoulder.

She peeled it away slowly, apologizing softly when he winced and hissed in pain. "Ugh, the fabric is sticking to the injury," she explained, trying not to let her eyes roam over his exposed chest and abdomen. "Uh… If you'll come into the bathroom, you can sit on the edge of the tub while I finish. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Do not worry about hurting me," he said, following her, his teeth clenched tightly. He sat down where she indicated. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he added, "I am certain that in your eyes I deserve this, and perhaps more."

"Excuse me?" Sarah frowned, reaching up on the shelf for a wash cloth. "What kind of person do you think I am? That's a terrible thing to say, and it's not true."

"Why do you live in such conditions?" he asked, changing the subject, glancing around in apparent distaste.

She sighed, turning on the faucet. "It's not that bad, and it's not by choice," she retorted as she pulled antibacterial ointment, gauze and medical tape from the cabinet. "It's all I can afford. Though I can see how it pales in comparison to a goblin and chicken infested castle. My Aunt Grace left it to me in her will. I don't have rent or a house payment, but there's always something needing to be fixed or replaced. I know it's beneath you, and I'm sorry about that, but it's all I have."

"I did not mean to offend you or to put you on the defensive," Jareth said as she wet the wash cloth with warm water and gently bathed his shoulder. "I merely meant to imply that you deserve much better. It is beneath _you_."

Concentrating on the task at hand, she knelt down in front of him, realizing that she had placed herself snugly between his knees. It was a very intimate position, and she struggled to answer steadily. "That rarely has anything to do with what we end up with. Not here."

"I see."

"Besides, your castle didn't exactly seem… opulent, from what I saw," she said, more to make conversation than anything else. She was very close to him, and noticed that he smelled wonderful, even with the barn smell still clinging to him. Dabbing ointment carefully onto his wound, she blew on it softly to alleviate the sting.

He flinched bodily, and she apologized again. "Sarah," he replied, "you saw but a very small part of my castle – the throne room and the room of stairs, to be exact. It was hardly enough for you to form an accurate impression. Like myself, much of it appeared in accordance with your…expectations."

"Touché," she commented with a small smile, glancing up at him. She wondered what he would do if she just ran her hands along the smooth, undamaged skin of his… _"Stop!"_ she told herself firmly, then realized she had spoken aloud.

"Stop what?" Jareth asked, looking at her in confusion.

"Uh, nothing. Never mind," she said, hoping he wouldn't pursue it. She knew her face must be as bright red as a stop sign, "Anyway, this is my home, such as it is, and for the moment, it's yours too. You're welcome to stay here as long as it takes you to heal."

As she applied gauze to his shoulder, taping it awkwardly in place, he replied, "And what of this… Jake person? What will he think of you having a male visitor in your house? Or will you relegate me to playing the older brother, or cousin?"

Sarah laughed, shaking her head. "Actually, I've been trying to discourage Jake for a while," she admitted as she smoothed the bandage. "It might be a better idea if we actually pretend you're my…" she trailed off, horrified at what she was about to say.

"Your lover?" he purred, turning his head so that he spoke directly into her ear. "A persistent old flame, come to town to rekindle the fire?"

Shivering at his tone and nearness, she looked up at him to see if he was making fun of her. Strangely enough, he looked completely serious. "Maybe we'd better stick with cousin," she suggested, slowly rising to her feet.

Grasping her wrist lightly, Jareth chuckled. "No, I think not. If you wish to send a message to the good doctor, then by all means, Precious, _use_ me to do so. Besides, it's always better to stick to the… truth. Wouldn't you say?"

Her mind got stuck at 'Precious'. Just the way he said it, as well as the way he said her name, tangled her hormones into a pathetic jumble. Wait, what? Stick to the truth, had he said? So he considered himself an old flame, then? It was too much to process with him eyeing her the way he was… "Uh…"

A knock sounded on the screen door. "Hey, Sarah!"

"Speak of the devil," Sarah said shakily, her eyes closed tightly shut. "Bad, _bad_ timing. Look. That's Jake now. Just… stay put, okay? I'll get rid of him."

"I don't _want_ to stay put," he replied imperiously as he stood up from the edge of the tub. His expression and tone reminded Sarah that she was dealing with a king who was used to doing whatever he wanted. It gave her a pleasant thrill to be around a man with such a magnetic presence and personality.

She thought furiously. "But I haven't gotten you any clothes yet!"

He looked down at himself. "People do not wear leather pants Aboveground?" he asked dubiously.

Unable to stop her gaze from flicking down to said pants… said tight-fitting, low-riding pants, she blew out a steadying breath. They fit him like a glove. She longed to reach out and trail her hand down his leg. '_Bad_ Sarah,' she mentally rebuked herself.

"Not quite like _that_," she retorted.

Grinning and very pleased at Sarah's flustered manner, he added, "Besides, would Jake not find it odd to find me wearing his clothing?"

"Sarah? You home?" Jake called out again.

"Oh, you're right," she said, slapping a hand to her forehead. "I'll have to go into town and get you some things… not that I have any money… but I'll worry about that later. Just stay here. _Please_." She knew full well he wasn't going to comply with her request.

She left the bathroom and headed toward the front door, where Jake was waiting impatiently. Thank goodness she had locked the screen earlier or he would have barged right in. Unlatching it, she stepped back so he could enter. "Hello, Jake," she said, not bothering to mask her annoyed tone.

"Hey," he said, but his eyes weren't on her. They were behind her. "Uh, Sarah… You have a visitor?"

Before she could turn to look at Jareth, she felt him approach her from behind her and snake his good arm around her waist. "Hello," she heard him greet Jake, his silky voice right in her ear, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. "My name is Jareth... the _visitor._"

Jake looked from Sarah to Jareth and then back to Sarah and down to Jareth's arm, snuggled intimately around her middle. Then he looked back at Sarah again, frowning. "Jareth? What, like the _owl_?"

Sarah found her voice again. "Uh… Jake? Jareth. Jareth? Jake McMasters."

"Jareth what?" Jake asked, somewhat belligerently.

At a complete loss, Sarah went through last names in her mind, all of them sounding ridiculous paired with his first name. Or perhaps it was more the fact that he wasn't from this world, and most likely a totally different species, and that he was a king…

"Kingston," Jareth replied smoothly, letting go of Sarah momentarily to extend a hand to Jake.

"Huh," Jake responded, shaking Jareth's offered hand reluctantly. "And you know Sarah from… where, exactly?"

Sarah registered that Jareth was still shirtless, and still in the tantalizing black leather breeches and black boots. He had the bathroom towel draping casually over his shoulder, hiding his injury. He was staring down Jake quite imperiously. "We're… old friends. More than friends, actually. I mean, we _were_. I'd like to be again, but... that is up to Sarah..." He smiled at her, acting every bit the part of a besotted old flame.

Sarah laughed weakly. He had taken her first story and run with it. It was her own fault. She ought to have known that this role would be far more appealing and fun to him than that of long-lost relative. On one hand she felt bad for Jake. On the other, she _had_ turned the guy down two times. When would he take the hint? Still, guilt pooled in her gut. She had allowed him to pay her tab at the town market only yesterday.

"I wasn't expecting to see J-Jareth again," she said by way of explanation, stumbling over her words as he flexed his fingers against the fabric of her shirt. "He sort of just… popped in and surprised me."

Jake nodded, scowling. "Yeah, I'll bet he's just full of surprises. Look, I came by to see if there was anything… Never mind. You know, I just remembered this is my surgery day. Best get back to the office."

Without another word or glance at Jareth, he went through the front door, letting the screen slam shut. Seconds later, his engine started and he drove away.

Sarah pulled out of Jareth's embrace and turned to face him. "Couldn't you have just stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes?" Seeing him straighten defensively, she backed down. This was a harder situation for him than it was for her. "I'm sorry. I just… that didn't go very well."

"I thought you wished to be rid of him," he said, looking genuinely perplexed, and maybe a little hurt.

She nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings in the process. He's proposed to me two times, and—"

"Proposed… _marriage_?" Jareth's entire demeanor changed. He drew himself up and raised his chin imperiously. "That is out of the question, Sarah. You are _not_ free to marry," he stated.

"_Excuse me?"_ she asked, incredulous. What in the world was he talking about? Of course she was free to marry, not that she wanted to marry Jake, but still… that was beside the point. The nerve of him!

He looked surprised at his own words. "Nothing, never mind."

"I'll talk to him later," she said, almost to herself, taking Jareth at his word. Most likely it was just his kingly nature coming out. If he truly did want to rekindle… whatever had happened between them all those years ago… She shook her head. There was nothing to rekindle, she was being ridiculous, and he'd been being a jerk. "At least this might give Jake something to think about."

Jareth nodded, looking mollified.

Sarah didn't have time to dwell on the situation. What was done was done. Most important right now was that she had to find some suitable clothes for Jareth. "Look, stay here and just… don't answer the door or the phone or anything." Grabbing the remote, she turned on the television for him. "I'll be back in a little bit. Change the channel and the volume by pressing here and here."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She bit her lip, glancing at his chest. "You're going to need something to wear besides that one pair of leather pants."

"I… of course. Thank you, Sarah," he said, sitting down on the couch. "I shall await your return."

"If you're hungry, help yourself to whatever's in the fridge – that's the large white box in the kitchen," she said, pointing. "Or do you want me to fix you something before I leave?"

He gave her a small smile. "I shall manage."

Sherlock appeared suddenly, he had probably been under her bed or in the closet for a nap. She watched curiously to see what the big cat would do when he saw Jareth. Sherlock detested Jake, as well as any other men that she had occasionally dated. To her surprise, he started purring loudly and rubbing against Jareth's legs.

"Who is this?" Jareth asked, looking down in amusement.

She blinked. "That's Sherlock, my cat. He just had… surgery… and can't go outside, so don't let him, no matter how much or how pathetically he begs and cries," she said. "He has a litter box in the laundry room."

"All right," he agreed, giving her a perplexed look. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"Sherlock doesn't like most men," she told him. "Actually you're the first man he hasn't hissed at and tried to bite or scratch. He absolutely hates Jake, which is weird, because Jake is a veterinarian and generally good with animals."

"Obviously, this cat is an excellent judge of character," Jareth replied haughtily. "I am sure the two of us will become fast friends."

Sarah had to refrain from laughing at the degree of pleasure Jareth derived from being accepted by her cat. "Okay then, you boys have fun bonding. I'll be back soon," she replied, hating to leave. What if she came back and he was gone? With a start, she realized that she would be severely disappointed if that was the case.


	4. Chapter 4

Jareth watched the television for about five minutes before his stomach groaned in protest. Setting the controlling device down on the low table in front of him, he wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator which Sarah had referred to as the 'large white box'… just how ignorant of her world did she think he was? Sherlock followed, peering inside with him.

Jareth was shocked at the scant provisions. There was a jar of jelly, half a loaf of bread, some fruit, something called 'string cheese', various bottles of brightly colored condiments, a carton of eggs, and very little else. In the top portion of the 'fridge' he found some frozen meals in boxes and chunks of ice. Sherlock shook himself and left the kitchen in disdain; Jareth couldn't blame him.

Frowning, he pulled out the carton of eggs – one of the few items he recognized, and looked around until he found a skillet. After a moment he figured out how to work the oven. He fried some eggs and ate them in front of the television, watching something called a 'game show'. When he finished eating, he realized he was bored with the television and figured out how to shut it off.

His hunger appeased, he decided it would be far more entertaining to snoop through Sarah's humble home. The house boasted two bedrooms, one of which was clearly Sarah's. It reflected the tastes of an adult woman but still had a whimsical feel to it. He gathered from the décor that Sarah liked jewel tones… very appropriate. In Sarah's closet he found a very small collection of clothing, mostly jeans and T-shirts; her dresser yielded even less. However he did enjoy picking through her undergarments, on which she seemed to spend the most money. Here again, he found evidence that she favored bright red, blue, purple, green and gold.

The other room must have belonged to another occupant at some time – perhaps Sarah's aunt. It was in this room that he found garments suitable for the annoying Jake, which pleased him greatly. There was plenty of room in Sarah's closet and bureau; if they were or had even been intimate, why would his things not be in with hers? Digging through the few items Jake had there, he pulled out a plain white T-shirt and slipped it over his head.

In the hallway there was a tall case of shelves loaded with books. There were books upon books and books behind more books, and on the top of the case were yet _more_ stacks of books. He suspected Sarah spent far more time reading that watching the ridiculous contraption called a television.

Things were going exceedingly – unexpectedly – well with Sarah. She had adapted to his presence rather quickly and easily. And she had been quite adamant that he stay with her and not leave. He even felt that she had been a bit reluctant to leave him just now, as if she were afraid that when she returned that he would be gone.

He had almost told her about her being his wife and the Goblin Queen prematurely. No matter how well she was handling this so far, she was not ready to hear _that_. Although, he had noted when they were in the bathroom that she had been as tense as a suppressed spring at being so close to him. Of course, he had felt the same way but he doubted that she had noticed. She seemed to have no clue how he felt about her.

It was unacceptable that his queen was living in such conditions. Her home was clean and reflected good taste, if rather humble, but it certainly wasn't what she deserved. The sooner he was healed and had won her heart, the sooner they could return home… Underground. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that had he not been shot out of the sky, the Labyrinth would have found another means of keeping him here. Sarah belonged with him and he belonged with her. She was the Goblin Queen, there was no escaping it. Actually, he might not be allowed back himself, if she did not agree to accompany him.

Continuing in his inspection of her home, Sherlock following like a dog, he went into the bathroom and opened the glass mirror cabinet above the sink. The contents were sparse – there was a tooth brush, toothpaste, medications for various ailments, and other items he had no interest in. There were no signs of any man sharing this house with Sarah, which delighted him.

Inside another cabinet across from the toilet, he found a small box of makeup, a bottle of perfume that smelled just like Sarah, assorted face creams, nail polish, and some other highly personal items that nearly made him blush upon realizing their purpose.

His perusal of her house took a lot less time that he would have thought. Bored, he wandered outside, careful to shoo Sherlock away from the door and closing it firmly behind him. In the barn, Ziggy eyed him curiously. The goats and chickens immediately started complaining, and he recalled that Sarah had not fed them, and had probably forgotten. He had watched her routine for days. For the next few minutes, he went about taking care of the needs of the animals, alternately talking and singing to them as she did. Ziggy had hopped down from his perch and was following him around as he did Sarah.

His mind was occupied with thoughts of Sarah and how much she cared for these creatures. It showed a gentleness of spirit that enhanced and deepened her vivid personality. Of course, she was holding much of her vivaciousness in check, no doubt feeling rather shy around him, which was only natural. It was highly likely that she had relegated him to the back of her mind as a myth, born from a book and her own imagination, or perhaps a dream. Somewhere in her consciousness she had known him to be real, however, because otherwise she would never have questioned him in his owl form.

Looking at the chickens as they mindlessly pecked at the ground for seed, he was put in mind of the chickens and goblins Underground. There was no way to contact his subjects, but he trusted that those he had left in charge would handle things acceptably well.

Finished in the barn, he went outside and saw a truck pulling up. The young woman who had saved him and taken him to Sarah's veterinarian boyfriend pulled up and got out of her truck.

"Hi," she said, regarding him curiously.

He nodded cautiously. "Hello," he replied.

She smiled. "Oh wow, you have an accent!"

"Yes," he said, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

"Where are you from? England?"

"Yes," he replied, not elaborating.

She nodded, covertly looking him up and down. "Um… is Sarah here?"

"No," he said, wishing fervently that she were. "She went into town."

"I'm Lacey," she said, extending her hand. "Are you… staying with Sarah?"

He nodded. "I'm Jareth."

She gaped at him. "She named the owl after _you_?"

"I guess so," he conceded with a shrug. "Sarah and I are old… friends."

"I see," she said, still staring with open curiosity and admiration. "Well, I brought over some stuff for the animals from my mom. Should I unload it all in the barn, do you think?"

Jareth walked toward the truck. "That should be acceptable," he said. "I'll assist you."

They unloaded everything within minutes, Jareth being careful to use only his good arm. Standing in the barn, Lacey looked around. "Where's the new owl?"

He froze momentarily, casting his eyes toward the box he had slept in. The blanket was lumped up; it looked as though it could pass for having a bird under it. "There," he replied, gesturing.

"Is he okay?" she asked, moving toward it.

"Oh, he's all right," he said casually. "Sarah checked on him just this morning. He's a heavy sleeper."

She shrugged. "Well, they do sleep in the day time as a rule, but when I was here yesterday, he was wide awake. He even got cranky with me when I said he had a little crush on Sarah."

"Ah, well, perhaps it all caught up with him," Jareth suggested, wishing the girl would leave. "Can I give Sarah a message for you?"

Lacey smiled knowingly. "Sure. Just tell her about the stuff, and that it's on us, and that I'll call her tonight… for details."

"Details?" he repeated, alarmed.

She winked. "Yeah. You know. Mysterious ex shows up wearing leather pants and biker boots… with heels. Anyway, just tell her I want details. She'll understand."

He nodded. "All right."

Moments later, he stood watching as her truck disappeared in a cloud of dust. He hoped fervently that she wouldn't encounter Sarah on her way back home. With a sigh, he went back into the house and looked for a clock. Sarah had been gone for over two hours. He felt somewhat abandoned. Wasn't she worried about him at all?

Fifteen minutes later, he finally heard her pull up in front of the house. She came in with several overflowing parcels, smiling. He had been ready to make a sarcastic comment about wondering if she would ever return, but she looked so happy that he bit his tongue.

"Hey," she said, setting down the bags. Sherlock immediately materialized, anxious to inspect anything new. "Sorry it took me so long. I didn't have much money at all, so I had to be thrifty. I'm sorry… I know you're royalty and everything, but I'm not, and this is what I could afford. Oh, you found one of Jake's T-shirts. That's good."

Suppressing a grin at her words, he stepped forward. "I am sure whatever you have brought is fine."

"I hope so," she replied doubtfully. "Um… here are some jeans, and here are some other kinds of pants… mostly khakis and stuff… I found some button down shirts that remind me a little of what you like to wear without being too… fancy for around here, and a pretty neat bomber jacket – it's old, but it's leather. Oh, and here's one suit, just in case…You'll just have to wear your boots until you can go with me and try some different shoes on. And here are some…" She thrust a bag at him.

He peered inside, seeing men's underclothing, wrapped in plastic. "Ah."

"Yeah, well," she said, blushing. "You can't buy that stuff used, it's just… gross."

She reached into another bag. "Here's a tooth brush for you. You can share my toothpaste and shampoo, stuff like that. But I did get you your own hairbrush and comb, and uh… I don't know if you use deodorant, but here's some of that…"

Jareth watched Sarah closely, listening to her ramble on. He realized that she was quite nervous. Having had a couple of hours to herself, the reality and _sur_-_reality_ of the situation must have hit her. He could put himself in her situation enough to understand how she must be feeling.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said simply. "This means a lot to me. You thought of everything."

She looked up quickly, her dark hair swinging behind her back. "You're welcome," she replied, seeming somewhat taken by surprise. "It's no problem."

"Your friend Lacey was here," he said. "She brought some things for the animals, and said you are not to repay her mother, and then she said she would call you later for, and I quote, 'details'."

"Details," Sarah repeated, staring at him. "Oh! Oh, gosh… What did you tell her?"

He smiled at the blush on her face. "I told her that I am an old friend, nothing more. I do not know if she believed me or not, however. I'm inclined to think… not."

"Oh, crap," Sarah said, covering her mouth. "Jake would have kept it to himself, but Lacey will have it spread all over town in no time that I have a mysterious, handsome stranger staying in my house!"

"You find me handsome, do you?" he said, pleased and amused.

She blushed again. "I… Well… Oh, come on. You know you look good; I know it; Lacey certainly knows it… Yes, okay? You're handsome."

"Thank you again, Sarah," he teased. "First gifts and now compliments. What am I to expect next?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Jareth!" she cried, and then she really looked at his face, and laughed. "You're a brat."

"Consider it payback, my love," he replied cheekily, and then regretted his words. She stopped laughing when he called her 'my love', looking uncomfortable and fidgeting with the tags on the clothing she had bought for him.

"Umm, It smells like eggs in here," she commented.

He nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Yes," he said. "I didn't find much to do with the other things you have on hand, so I cooked some eggs. Have you eaten? I could cook some for you, as well," he offered. Here he was, a king, offering to be a short order cook for his unsuspecting Aboveground wife. It was a bizarre situation.

"You don't have to do that," she replied, moving toward the kitchen. "I can get myself something."

He stopped her, his hand encircling her wrist lightly. "I wish to prepare a meal of eggs for you, Sarah," he said seriously. "It is the least I can do."

Sarah's eyes flicked down to his hand, holding onto her arm. Then she looked back up into his eyes. "Okay, thanks," she said with a smile. "I'll just remove all the tags and get things washed up, and later you can try everything on and make sure it fits."

Jareth gave her wrist a light squeeze. "Whatever you wish," he said. Letting go, he headed into her tiny kitchen, listening to her in the laundry room as she cut off tags and started a load of laundry.

He pulled out eggs and margarine, and set about fixing her lunch while Sherlock sat watching him with the bored disinterest only a cat can display. It was strange, but he realized that even if he was trapped here forever, he could be happy as long as he was with Sarah. It was a foreign concept to him. He had not very often been happy, not in a very long time. In fact, ever since he had started reigning as Goblin King, he had been decidedly _un_happy.

While Sarah's reward for beating the Labyrinth was to be his queen, his saving grace for allowing a mortal girl to defeat him was that it netted him a bride and queen… as well as a companion after countless years of loneliness.

Jareth cracked the eggs into a bowl and added a touch of milk, then beat them with a wire whisk. He frowned as he worked, his mind racing. He had a few weeks – six to eight at the most – in which to make Sarah fall in love with him and agree to go back Underground. It was a daunting prospect and yet an unavoidable one. If he merely took her, which was of course his right, she would hate him. If she resisted his plan, however, he would have trouble on his hands.

He was not accustomed to the act or necessity of wooing females. Most of them simply swooned upon seeing him. It wasn't something he felt excessively prideful over; it was merely the way it was. Of course, while many wished to acquaint themselves with Jareth, few wished to take that acquaintance as far as marriage. The Goblin Kingdom was a lesser kingdom, and carried a stigma. Knowing this from an early age, Jareth had soured against Underground women and had refused to seek a bride.

It was because of his stubbornness that the Labyrinth had taken matters into its own hands, searching out a bride Aboveground. Jareth had no choice but to go along with the whims of the sentient living thing that was the Labyrinth; it had chosen him as king and now it had chosen Sarah as queen.

"That smells good," Sarah said, breaking into his reverie.

He gave her a brief smile. "I did not pepper the eggs; I thought you would wish to do that yourself. Seasoning one's food is a very personal matter, and I have not yet learned your preferences."

Sarah quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well, you're not here to cater to me, anyway," she replied. "There's no need for you to… learn my preferences."

"No, I suppose not," he said easily, spooning eggs onto a plate. He could have easily argued the point… there was every need to learn what his wife liked and disliked in every aspect of life. But once again he reminded himself that she had no idea how much her life was about to change.

Taking the plate from him, she smiled. "Thanks."

He sat with her while she ate, answering her questions about Hogger, the old fox and the orange beast. It was easy to talk of the Labyrinth and its denizens as she had been there and was naturally curious. At one point she got up to move his new wardrobe into the dryer, but then she fixed them both some coffee, returned to the table and continued their discussion.

After what seemed like just a few minutes, the dryer sounded its alert that his things were dry. The noise seemed to start Sarah and she gave him a small smile. "Thanks again for the eggs, they were delicious."

"You're welcome," he replied with a brief nod. "I shall… _try on_… the things you have brought for me."

"Okay," she agreed, moving into the laundry room and pulling things from the dryer, folding them into a neat pile even though he was about to wear them. "You're actually a pretty good cook," she called out.

"You do not have to sound so astounded, Sarah," he said with a laugh as she emerged into the kitchen, her arms full of pants and shirts for him. "You will find that I have many hidden talents."

With that he disappeared into the second bedroom, taking the stacks of clothing with him. Closing the door, he laid everything on the bed and examined Sarah's purchases. She had chosen colors he would have chosen for himself – black, gray, burgundy, navy, forest green. He could not have done better himself as far as style and color.

Stripping out of his leather boots and breeches, he frowned. Before he tried anything on, he really ought to clean up first. Not wanting to put his clothes back on, he opened the door a crack and asked, "Sarah, might I use your facilities before I try these things on for size?"

"Oh, of course!" she cried, and he heard her plate clatter in the sink. "Sure. I'm sorry I didn't offer first."

Before he knew it, she was standing before him. He instinctively closed the door a bit further. He was not about ruin the small inroads he had made with Sarah by greeting her at her bedroom door in the buff. While such things were no large matter in his world, he was quite certain it would upset Sarah. Though a full-grown woman who had no doubt had adult relationships, in this particular case she might just… what was the term? Freak out.

"If there is a towel, or…" he let his voice trail off.

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Yeah, just a sec." She disappeared and returned a moment later, a ridiculously large and brightly colored towel clutched in her hands. "How's your shoulder, by the way?" she asked.

He had taken the towel and was wrapping it around himself as he answered. "It is still quite painful. I fear you will have to redress it once I have bathed."

"No problem," she answered, her voice muffled.

Jareth walked into the hall, holding a pair of pants, a shirt, and a pair of men's 'boxer-briefs' from the plastic wrapped package, which boasted 'breathable stretch cotton' and 'ultimate comfort'. Sarah turned around to face him, her eyes taking in his bare chest and then moving slowly downward as a becoming blush colored her cheeks.

"Are you quite well, Sarah?" he asked solicitously. "You're looking quite flushed."

Her eyes were unusually bright and she was biting her lower lip. "I'm fine… So," she said, turning away again, stepping into the miniscule bathroom. "Um… You can use whatever you want to in the shower, except for the body wash, because that's… well, it's kind of frilly and feminine."

Jareth followed her into the confined space. Amused by her discomfiture, he leaned forward and sniffed the dispenser she was holding up. "Yes," he agreed, "it is a fragrance much more suited to you. What is that scent exactly, anyway, Sarah? Do I detect… peaches?"

Not turning around, she shrugged, yanking the shower curtain aside. "It was the only scent they had besides rose, and I hate rose-scented anything, it reminds me of my step-mother. Between the two, I chose the peach."

"I see," he replied, standing right behind her.

Her hand shook as she reached into the bathing area. "Okay… the hot water tap and cold water tap are backwards, so the hot is on the right and the cold is on the left. And even so, the shower will go from hot to cold without warning, so you kind of have to be prepared to hop out of the way."

Valiantly he tried to refrain from picturing Sarah in this very shower stall, hopping out of very hot or very cold water. He failed, rather miserably. "What a terrible contraption," he muttered close to her ear.

She jumped slightly, bumping into his chest. "Um," she said, turning around. "If you'll let me out, I'll let you go ahead and get cleaned up. Just call me when you're ready for me to help you with your shoulder."

"Thank you, Sarah," he said as she passed. He watched her face closely and noted that she gave him another up and down glance as she went by. Grinning widely, he closed the door. Sarah was not entirely immune to him; that would prove beneficial.

In the shower, Jareth borrowed Sarah's shampoo and soap, luxuriating in the fragrant steam. The enticing blend of citrus and strawberries reminded him of her. He was so entranced, so caught up in the moment, that the burst of freezing cold water shocked him. Jumping back, he banged his shoulder into the cold tile wall, cursing richly in Goblin.

"Jareth?" Sarah's worried voice called from outside the bathroom. "Are you okay?"

"No," he answered loudly, "I am not _okay_."

A worried silence reigned for a moment, and then she said, "I'm sorry… I told you to be on the alert to sudden temperature changes."

Letting the now warm water run over his head, Jareth stared down at the drain. He missed the luxurious accommodations at his castle, but he would spend eternity bathing in this hideous little tiled room if it meant it could spend eternity with Sarah. "Yes, I do recall that bit of advice. It's not your fault, Sarah."

When she spoke no more, he turned the shower head toward the wall so that it would be easier to side step another blast of frigid water, and resumed his activities. Five minutes later, he stepped out and dried off briskly with the large towel he had worn into the bathroom. Glancing into the mirror, he winced at the sight of the shoulder wound. It was difficult to gauge its progress in healing, as he had only been in this form a few times, and this was the first real look he was getting. There were all manner of colors manifesting themselves, from purple to blue and blackish gray.

He pulled on the boxer briefs and studied himself in the mirror again. At least Sarah had chosen gray and black, rather than utilitarian white. They fit quite nicely, he thought, turning to the side to better admire his figure. Satisfied, he pulled on the pair of black jeans, but left off the shirt.

Opening the bathroom door and observing the steam that spewed out into Sarah's narrow hallway, he called, "Sarah?"

She stepped out of her room. Her eyes darkened at the sight of him. He wondered if she was aware how blatantly easy it was for him to read her every reaction. Right now he was fairly certain she was entertaining ideas of a somewhat carnal nature. "Ready?" she finally asked.

"I am," he replied, pretending not to have noticed his effect on her, wondering how it was that she wasn't picking up on his attraction to her just as easily. "It is a bit… foggy in the bathroom. Perhaps you should care for my injury elsewhere?"

She nodded, seeming to snap into action. "Let me grab the supplies. Go sit on the bed in the spare room… your room," she amended with a small smile. "I'll be right there."

Jareth did as she said, shivering slightly against the cool air. He felt very much like a fish out of water. He was in a foreign world, in a strange situation. It was not normal for him to have to rely on anyone, and he realized with a start that right now, Sarah was his lifeline. Had she seen fit to toss him out as soon as she found out his true identity, there was no telling what would have happened to him.

Sarah came into the room with anti-bacterial ointment and bandages. Once again, she positioned herself close to him, standing between his knees. He reveled in the closeness; it was worth the pain and discomfort he was going through to have her so near. Setting the supplies down on the bed next to him, she lightly touched his arm as she looked at the injury.

"How does it feel?" she asked, trailing her fingers over the healthy skin around his shoulder.

Jareth suppressed a moan. She could have no idea that because they were bonded, every touch she gave him was like a caress. He was so in tune to her that even her breath on his skin sent waves of pleasure through him. "It is… uncomfortable," he answered, not wishing to appear weak.

Her green eyes looked into his blue ones. "Uncomfortable? You must have a high pain tolerance."

Shrugging his good shoulder, he said, "Nothing can be done to alleviate it even if I were to say it is extremely painful."

"Yeah," Sarah nodded, dabbing ointment onto her fingers. "I suppose that's true. I have no idea how painkillers would affect you, and I'd hate to make you sick or anything. I just wish I could do something to make you feel better."

A suggestive response sprang to his lips, but Jareth felt it wise to suppress it, and said nothing.

As she worked the greasy medication into his skin with her right hand, she continued lightly touching his arm with her left. For Jareth, feeling the touch of another was a rare thing. Feeling the touch of the woman he loved was a brand new and delicious sensation. Ever since Sarah's defeat of the Labyrinth and it had named her his wife and queen, he had bedded no one, remaining faithful to his bride, as was honorable. The more time he spent with Sarah, the more difficult it was to contain the way he felt.

To his dismay, Jareth felt his pulse and his breathing quicken. Attempting to take long, slow breaths, he focused on calming down. As Sarah carefully wrapped his shoulder, she cast quick, worried glances at him.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked him. "Maybe you should lie down for a while," she suggested. "You almost look feverish."

He was about to argue, but he saw the wisdom in her words. Time alone would allow him to get himself under control, and he did need rest so that his body could heal. "Perhaps you're right."

Sarah seemed inordinately relieved. "The sheets are clean, but if you just want to sleep on top, there are throw blankets in that wicker basket," she said, pointing to the basket at the foot of the bed. "Those are all clean, too. Do you need help getting your shirt on?"

"No, thank you," he said. "A blanket will suffice."

Mistaking his words for a request, she said, "Oh, okay," and opened the basket, pulling out a neatly folded soft-looking afghan. "Here you go."

He took it from her, their fingers brushing. The electric current that passed between them was unmistakable, and he knew from Sarah's expression that she had felt it, too. "Thank you again," he whispered.

Sarah's eyes widened, in what could only be described as alarm. She started backing toward the door. "You're welcome," she replied, averting her gaze. "Just… uh… sleep as long as you want. I'll make something for dinner in a few hours, but if you wake up later I can always reheat it."

Jareth nodded, watching as the door closed behind her. She was acting very oddly all of a sudden. He didn't think he had done anything to put her so on edge, so it must be something she was feeling on her own. It was too soon to feel very hopeful, though, and he actually was very tired. Stretching out on the bed, he covered himself with the blanket and closed his eyes. He barely felt it when Sherlock jumped up onto the bed and snuggled against his side.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah walked into the living room, willing her heart to slow down its frantic thrumming. Shaking her head to clear it, she sank down onto the room's only chair. Threading her fingers together to steady her hands, she attempted to make sense out of what had just happened.

When she had handed Jareth the blanket, their fingers had touched. It wasn't the first time she had touched him, but it was far more powerful. Some sort of current had passed from him to her, or perhaps it was mutual; she couldn't tell. In those few seconds, however, she'd had a strong sensation as if she were remembering _kissing_ Jareth. It had been so real, like an actual memory, something that had happened and was firmly imprinted on her mind and heart. It had startled her, and all she could think of was getting out of that room.

Jake had kissed her many times, and she had always longed to feel even a tenth of what she had just imagined feeling with Jareth. Of course, imagination was always much more vivid than reality, and it left one with very high expectations. But the fact was, it was more than her imagination. It was more like a waking dream, only better because even now, it wasn't fading away. She could still remember what it was like; she could relive the kiss right now and feel the same sensations.

At first, she had thought that perhaps Jareth had done something to her. Then she had seen him jump slightly, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked up at her. She was almost certain that he had felt it too, and had been equally caught off guard.

She barely knew him… how could she possibly be engaging in fantasies about him, mutual or not? Was that what it was? Had he been thinking about kissing her? Maybe he had some sort of mental transference of some sort, so that she felt what he had been feeling. However, that idea was even more disturbing, to think that he was having those kinds of thoughts about her!

Resolutely, Sarah decided that some sort of distance between them would be required. He was her guest, and she would be cordial, but in no way was she going to allow herself to become entangled with the Goblin King – figuratively _or_ literally! She would allow him to stay here, take care of his shoulder, feed him, and then say goodbye in a few weeks.

Say goodbye… why did the idea of it fill her with a sort of sad dread? Firmly she pushed the thought aside. This was _exactly_ why she needed to stay objective about this whole situation. Jareth was her enemy, or he was at one time. He was a king and from another _world_. Most people would already be committing themselves to a facility to get a grip on reality at this point, but Sarah had been to Jareth's world. She knew it existed, however unlikely it seemed.

The only reason Jareth was here was because a child had been wished away. His being shot out of the sky, found by her friend, treated by her… _other_ friend, and then brought to her barn for rehabilitation, was purely coincidental. She knew that he hadn't planned it; there had been a very real honesty in his eyes when he had told her that he hadn't sought her out.

Of course, in a way, she had been disappointed to hear it. Through the years, she had occasionally indulged in dreams wherein Jareth returned to ask for her hand once more… which was ridiculous. The only reason he had even made that offer was to distract her from her goal of saving Toby. It was just that the idea of a fairytale-esque king… not a benevolent, shining knight in armor, but a sarcastic, darkly attractive, incredibly sensual, alluring Goblin King… had asked her to love him. What healthy female wouldn't be just a little bit… _seduced _by such a prospect?

Heading outside, she went into the barn and greeted Ziggy and the others. It was nearly time to bring the goats in. Despite eating all day, they would be bleating at her for more food. She went about her duties in a kind of daze, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the man sleeping in her spare bedroom. He had only shown up in his human form earlier that day, and already she was as absorbed in him as she had been when she ran his Labyrinth.

She had been so very awed by him. He had fascinated to her teenaged self, smooth and alluring and handsome… a fairy tale come true. It had been difficult for her to say the words at the very end, the words that ripped her out of his world. Of course she'd had no alternative. Getting Toby back had been paramount. There was always the lingering question though; if he had made an alternate suggestion along with his offer, for instance to send Toby home while she stayed… what would she have done?

It had been a subject for consideration for years after her adventure. Before the Labyrinth, the idea of a devilishly handsome king taking a fancy to her had only been a fantasy; a recurring dream that had appealed strongly. To be honest, it still did. Of course, Jareth probably had never actually fancied her. And if he did, he almost certainly had gotten over it. What was there about her to love? She wasn't royal, famous, rich, or even very beautiful. Oh, Jake said she was, but he was biased. When she looked in the mirror she saw what she had always seen – plain, boring Sarah.

Sighing, she brushed hay off her jeans and turned to leave the barn. As she closed the doors, she saw Jake pulling up the tree-lined dirt driveway that kicked up dust in summer and was muddy in winter. Wondering what he wanted, she waited. He got out, leaving his door open, and walked over to her.

"Hi, Jake," she said nervously, not liking the look on his face.

"Sarah," he responded coolly.

She waited patiently. He had shown up uninvited and unannounced; he could tell her why he was here. Crossing her arms, she gave him a questioning look.

He kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot. "So what's the deal with this guy, anyway?" he finally asked.

"What guy?" Sarah asked, annoyed.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he said, "Don't play games, Sarah. You know exactly who I'm talking about. The guy that was draped all over you this morning, that's who."

"He's an old… friend," she answered him, stumbling over her words as she recalled the feeling of Jareth stealing up behind her and snaking his arm around her waist. "I wasn't expecting him. I didn't know he was coming. I hadn't seen him in years."

"But you're letting him stay here with you," he stated flatly. "Just like that. I don't understand you, Sarah. If there was someone else, you should have _told_ me."

Sarah shook her head. "I just told you I hadn't seen him in a long time. There's no 'somebody else'… Jareth isn't interested in me like that, trust me. He… he just… I…" She sighed, frustrated. "He's a friend, okay? What do you want me to do, send him to the motel?"

"Yes!" Jake said heatedly. "Yes, Sarah, I do want that. The guy is trouble. I mean, Sarah, what about us?"

Throwing her arms up, she said, "What _about_ us? Jake, I… I like you. You're a wonderful friend, and I appreciate that. I know you'd like more, but I… I just can't give you more. I thought you finally understood that."

He scowled, shaking his head. "What exactly happened between the two of you?" he demanded.

Sarah could have eased his concern, but at this point, she didn't really care. He was acting possessive and jealous when she had essentially just told him he had no reason or right to be. Besides, she had repeatedly told him how she felt... it should be no surprise. "That's none of your business!"

"Did you let him kiss you, touch you?" he taunted. "How far did you let _him_ get, huh, Sarah?"

She didn't even think, she just reacted, slapping him hard across the face. "You bastard!" she cried angrily. "Get off my property."

"I loved you, Sarah," he told her, holding a palm to his stinging face. "You need to learn to recognize a good thing when you have one, or you're going to end up an old maid."

"Old maid?" she repeated, incredulous. "What _century_ are you living in? Just leave. Now. Or I'm calling the sheriff."

Shaking her head, she turned and walked away from him, heading for the front door. Unfortunately, Jareth was just stepping out onto the porch.

"Something wrong?" he asked, casting a look in Jake's direction as he took one step down.

Sarah stared at him and felt something inside her respond with passionate approval. He had pulled on a gray silk shirt and had it buttoned about halfway up. In his jeans and boots, his spiky hair sticking up from his nap, he was heartbreakingly beautiful. No, there was no way she was in capacity a fitting mate for Jareth… why was she even thinking like that?

She passed him, stepping up onto the porch so that she was just about the same height as him. "Nothing's wrong. Jake was just leaving," she said. Then she did something completely on a whim. Not to make Jake jealous; he already was. It wasn't to make a point, either; her slap had done that. What she did, she did because she wanted to, plain and simple, and she may not get another chance ever again.

Her hand made its way into Jareth's hair. He turned toward her in surprise, giving her a questioning look before she kissed him on the lips, all thoughts of Jake's presence forgotten. Pressing herself against him, she had a fleeting thought, 'This feels right,' before she felt his good arm go around her, pulling her closer.

Vaguely aware of Jake's truck door slamming shut, she was more concerned with the feeling of utter… _rightness_ at being in Jareth's arms… or rather, arm. As Jake's engine roared to life, she pulled back in self-recrimination.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, feeling her face heat up in mortification. What must he think of her? Hadn't she just finished lecturing herself about keeping her distance? "Sorry! I don't know what I was thinking!"

He was staring at her in something akin to shock, as though awaiting her explanation. She had just sexually harassed an otherworldly king! "You are?" he asked, his voice sounding a bit odd.

"Yes," she replied, frantically thinking of an excuse for grabbing and kissing him on the porch, hoping he wasn't angry or offended. "He just made me so mad, making demands on me like he owns me or something, I just…"

Jareth averted his eyes quickly, as if he didn't want her to see something in their depths. She didn't think too hard about it, however, because she felt terrible for lying. But how could she tell him the truth? 'I'm ridiculously attracted to you and feel an incredible urge to attack you, right here on my front porch, if you please.'

"You… wished to demonstrate to him that he does not own you," Jareth surmised, that enigmatic tone still in his voice. "Nothing more. Am I right?"

She smiled weakly, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again. '_Down girl_.' "Right," she affirmed, her voice too artificial, too bright. "You did say you would help me to… dissuade him."

He nodded slowly and seemed to become preternaturally still. "Yes. Yes, I did say that," he agreed. "Excuse me." His expression was unreadable.

"Jareth?"

He didn't respond, however, he just turned and walked away, toward the copse of trees that led to the lake. Frowning to herself, she almost went after him, but the way he had been acting, and then his lack of response when she said his name, kept her from doing so. She had clearly offended him if he was walking away. Instead of following him, as her heart urged, she went into the house to start something for dinner.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth had never felt such utter disappointment in his long, long life. He had gone from total elation to complete dejection in a matter of seconds… it was sure to wreak havoc with his sensibilities. Disappointment had given way to embarrassment, something he felt _very_ rarely, and then to outrage. He had walked away from Sarah before saying something he would regret. How _dare_ she use him so abominably! What right did she have?

'Every right,' his own voice answered mockingly, 'as she is your wife and queen.'

"She does not know that!" he argued out loud, his hands clenching into fists.

He replayed the moment in his mind, recalling the hungry look in her eyes, feeling afresh her fingers slide against his scalp, tangling in his hair as her warm mouth assaulted his. She had to have felt _something_. How could she kiss him that way if she were only using him to prove a point to the odious Jake? It was as if she even forgot the veterinarian were still there, just a few yards away. His mind continued to relive the kiss, analyzing it in detail: the small whimper Sarah had given at the back of her throat; the way her nails had scraped the back of his head; how she had pressed herself against him in near-desperation.

After several minutes, he was much calmer and not nearly as angry. He was certain there had been more to that kiss than Sarah had let on. They had connected on a plane where Jake didn't matter, where nothing mattered but the two of them. The bond that existed between them was growing, even though Sarah was as yet unaware of it. Not that it was the sole factor in her behavior; there had to be attraction and the potential for love for the bond to affect her in this fashion. He also acknowledged a certain satisfaction that Sarah had felt comfortable enough with him to kiss him in front of the vile Jake. Perhaps this would convince the peasant to no longer persist in his affections. Sarah had clearly declared her choice in the matter.

Taking a deep breath, Jareth looked out over the small lake and decided he would let Sarah set the pace tonight. He wouldn't take issue with anything she said. It was very early yet; what had transpired between them today was remarkable progress for such a short time.

He made his way back to her house as the sun was setting. It occurred to him that he ought to feel more worried about how things were going without him in his kingdom. His subjects must wonder why he was staying away for so long. However, the calm he felt was no doubt the Labyrinth's way of assuring him that all was well. If it wanted him here, it would ensure that things were fine for however long he must be here.

Entering the house quietly, he found Sarah in the kitchen, chopping at vegetables with a vengeance. She sniffed loudly and he realized that she was crying. Concern flooded through him and he cleared his throat to alert her to his presence. She stiffened but didn't turn.

"You're back," she said needlessly, continuing to assault the defenseless head of lettuce.

"Yes," he said, moving further into the small kitchen. Sherlock sat in the corner, loudly crunching bits of cat food, but he looked up at Jareth in what appeared to be empathy. Obviously he knew his mistress' temperament was off-kilter at the moment. As Jareth neared Sarah, he saw her lean her head down, her hair obscuring her face from view. "You've been crying."

She gestured impatiently at an onion. "Not really," she lied.

"Sarah," he said, infusing disbelief and humor into his voice, "that onion is not even peeled yet."

She shrugged, but said nothing more.

Gently, Jareth reached out and stilled her hand. The knife clattered quietly on the cutting board as she turned her face away from him, wiping at her eyes. "I'm fine," she said. "I just… I feel bad. I know you left because you were upset, and you were right. I had no right to do what I did. I just… sometimes I forget that you're a _king_, and… Well…" She shook her head as if in frustration.

Jareth stayed where he was, tempted though he was to take Sarah into his arms. "I'm not upset with you anymore, Sarah," he said. "Please do not be distressed on my account."

She turned toward him. "You're not angry with me?"

"No," he assured her. "However, I do wish you had come to get me when the veterinarian began harassing you."

"I can fight my own battles," she said stiffly.

He sighed, deciding to take another tactic. "Are you very lonely, Sarah?"

Her eyes widened and she stared at him, clearly taken aback. "I don't know what you mean," she said defensively. "Look, I'm okay. I was worried I'd upset you, but since I didn't, why don't we just eat dinner. Okay?"

"Indeed, okay," he replied, dropping the subject. "I am amazed you have found something to cook, given the sparse contents of your 'fridge'."

Sarah smiled at his use of the casual word, seeming relieved. "I have a small garden and grow most of what I eat, which is why the fridge seems so empty," she told him. "I thought we could have salad and vegetable soup." She indicated a pile of fresh vegetables including potatoes, tomatoes, squash, carrots, beets, and other garden produce.

"That sounds delightful," he said honestly.

They ate early and then Sarah disappeared into her room to get ready for work. When she emerged, Jareth nearly bit his tongue. She wore a short blue uniform dress with a white apron over it. She quite resembled some sort of naughty Alice in Wonderland.

"This is what you wear to serve food?" he asked her, desperately pulling together his rigid self-control. He could not allow Sarah to see his reaction to this revealing outfit.

She nodded, looking at him oddly. "Yes, this is what all the waitresses wear," she replied, looking down at herself. "Is something wrong with it?"

He wanted to tell her that it was an inappropriate costume for a queen, but then it was unbefitting his queen to be acting as serving wench to these ignorant Abovegrounders in the first place. She would never understand, and if he attempted to explain his reaction to her now, she would most likely panic, then rebel.

"No," he said, forcing himself to calm down. "Nothing wrong with it at all," he lied. She could wear anything she wanted around him; it was other men he worried about. But for the moment there was nothing to be done about it. Striving to keep his eyes on her face and off her long, perfectly toned legs, he said, "I hope you have a good evening at work."

"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I usually don't get home until after midnight, because we close at eleven on Saturdays and then we have to do our side work. I'll bring you home some pie, and you can have it for breakfast, if you want."

Nodding, he accompanied her to the door, unable to stop his eyes from traveling the length of her bare legs. Really the skirt wasn't totally immodest. It was just so different from what was acceptable in his world. A woman would be labeled a tart for such an outfit. He smirked as he pictured Sarah's face if he were to tell her that.

A moment later, she had driven away, leaving him alone again. Sighing, he went inside and resumed reading, only to find that the story didn't interest him very much at all. He moved over to the book shelf and perused the titles, smiling when he came across a red bound book that looked quite familiar. Pulling it out, he sat back down in the chair. Sherlock hopped into his lap and settled down after circling several times. He let out a contented meow and closed his eyes, purring loudly. Jareth smiled and opened the book, starting at the beginning.

However, when he turned to the first page, a folded sheet of paper fell out onto his lap. Staring at it for a second, he finally picked it up and unfolded it. The paper was crisp, as if it were old. He held it carefully, moving it under the light to see it better. It was in Sarah's handwriting, the penciled words faded with time.

It seemed that Sarah had written an epilogue after her return. In her young girl's large curly letters, she had written:

"_The girl, Sarah, looked around at her empty bedroom. The party over, her friends had all gone back to the Labyrinth, and strangely, she felt as if she ought to have gone back, too. She no longer felt as if she belonged in this world, despite how hard she had fought to get back. Everything had changed, most of all Sarah herself._

_What had happened to the Goblin King? She hadn't meant to hurt him, only to save Toby. The book had given her the words to do that, but it hadn't told her how to save Toby and get what she wanted also. She had no choice but to refuse her dreams in order to save her baby brother; the choice had to be made and she had made the right one._

_Did she want the Goblin King? Maybe the question was did the Goblin King really want her? Probably not. What was she thinking? She was just a silly mortal girl who whined about things being unfair. _

_It was a good lesson, wasn't it? It had taught her not to take anything for granted. In the future, she would be more careful with her words and actions, or at least she hoped so. _

_He had said he would be her slave. She didn't really understand it, even now. But he had asked her to love him, and that was what stuck in her mind, even now that she was home. "Love me." Why would he have said that? Wouldn't it have been just as easy to say "Fear me, do as I say, and I will be your slave"? _

"_Love me." _

_Did no one love him, then? Her heart didn't want to believe it, didn't want to think about it. For the first time, she realized that she might have really done the wrong thing, but she would never know now. _

_Did she love the Goblin King? No, she hardly knew him, and she was very young still. Could she love the Goblin King? Her heart said… yes." But then again, the Goblin King was tricky and deceitful; he was probably just trying to distract her, make her forget her words. There was no way he had really wanted an ordinary girl like Sarah. _

Jareth read the words again, and then a third time. Slowly he refolded the page and tucked it into his pocket. He would keep this forever, and years from now, perhaps on an anniversary, he would bring it out and tease her that it was her first love letter to him.

He read for a while, but the book was so familiar to him that he soon grew tired of it. Feeling a bit tired, he decided to go to bed. His shoulder was aching and fatigued, and Sarah wasn't here to redress it. Sighing, he removed a protesting Sherlock and stood, making his way into the bedroom, replacing the book on the shelf as he passed it. He left the bedroom door open so he would hear Sarah when she came home.

Pulling off his clothes, he realized that Sarah had not bought any pajamas for him. It was just as well; he was not accustomed to sleeping in anything. His boxer-briefs would suffice. He slid in between the sheets, closing his eyes and trying to get used to the feel of cotton against his skin rather than brushed silk. At least the bed was fairly comfortable. Within moments he felt himself drift off to sleep.

The moment Sarah put her key in the lock, Jareth opened his eyes. He was tempted to get up and greet her, but he would have to get fully dressed. Lying there quietly, he listened to her move about the house. First she set her keys on the little table by the door. Then she went into the kitchen, presumably to set the promised pie on the counter. For a moment, all was silent, but a moment later, his doorway darkened. He opened his eyes to slits so he could see her. She stood holding her purse over her shoulder, her shoes in her hand. She had removed her apron and let down her hair.

She remained there, just watching him, for at least three minutes. He wished he could see her expression, and wondered what she was thinking about. His heart was racing with anticipation; his body had hopes that she may leap into bed with him. His mind was far more savvy, and knew that as she stood there she was attempting to work something out for herself.

Realizing he had been holding his breath, he suddenly was unable to refrain from taking air deep into his lungs. The action startled Sarah and when he looked again she had disappeared. Moments later, he heard her turn on the shower. He smiled to himself when he heard her yelp; obviously the water temperature was playing havoc with her as it had with him.

When she finished and returned to her bedroom, he heard her shut the door. Steam from the bathroom carried across the hall to him, and he fell asleep with the scent of strawberries and peaches permeating his room.

Sarah awoke at the break of dawn, thanks to her nearest neighbor's rooster, Henry, who reveled in alerting everyone in a two-mile radius that a new day had begun. Groaning, she rolled over and covered her head with her pillow. After a few minutes, though, she realized it was useless; she wasn't going back to sleep. Sherlock, on the other hand, hadn't stirred at all. It was still uncanny how much the cat liked Jareth…

Groggily, she climbed out of bed, her feet cold on the hardwood floor. Finding her Kermit the Frog slippers which so nicely complemented her 'got milk' T-shirt and Hello Kitty sleep pants, she shoved them onto her feet and shuffled out into the hallway. She stopped abruptly as she ran into a wall of flesh. Her eyes flew open as she stared at Jareth, who had just come out of the bathroom. He looked as startled as she did, reaching out to steady her.

Sarah backed up a bit, flicking her eyes down his body, which was dressed only in a towel… a considerably smaller towel than the one he had used yesterday. 'Eyes up, Williams, up!' She swallowed hard. "Sorry," she muttered.

"No need to apologize," he replied somewhat formally, taking in her attire. "Of the two of us, I feel that perhaps you are the worse for wear."

Initially insulted, Sarah glanced down at her ensemble and grinned. Then she laughed, and was surprised to hear Jareth join her. He had a beautiful laugh, rich and melodious. He was really quite pleasant when he wasn't being all sneering and sarcastic.

"I think you may be right," she agreed, self-consciously smoothing down her hair.

He sobered, reaching out to tuck a strand behind her ear. "However, you are no less beautiful."

Snorting inelegantly and then silently cursing herself, she said, embarrassed, "Yeah, right. Look, I'm going to go start some coffee while you… um… put some clothes on. I have to be to work by twelve, but I'll be home a little after eight."

He looked dismayed for just a flicker of a second, but it was gone so fast that she wondered if she had imagined it. "Right," he said, and disappeared into his room.

Once he closed his door, Sarah darted into the bathroom. Quickly she ran a brush through her hair, bemoaning how terrible it looked… all flat on one side and standing on end on the other, as if she were the bride of Frankenstein! She hurriedly brushed her teeth and used her deodorant, then raced back to her room for a robe to cover her mismatched pajamas. As she exited her room, he was coming out of his, fully dressed.

"Really, we must stop meeting like this," he said. Sarah stared at him until she realized he was making a joke. "Well, _laugh_," he added imperiously.

She laughed, more at his command _to_ laugh than his attempt at humor. "Um… coffee."

"That _is_ what you were going to do a moment ago," he observed dryly, his eyes taking in the changes in her appearance.

Ignoring him, she headed for the kitchen, feeling self conscious and awkward. What was she doing? He was a king. She was entertaining royalty in her home. It was highly unlikely that he gave two wits about her pajamas or her atrocious morning hair. Feeling his eyes upon her, she readied the coffee maker, willing it to hurry.

"How did it go last night?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Surprised, she shrugged slightly. "Oh… same as always… Of course, you don't know what that is, do you?" Answering her own question, she went on. "No, of course you don't. The diner is one of the only decent places to eat in this town, so it's usually packed. It was busy last night until closing. We have a lot of regulars, and some of them have a favorite waitress. I'm pretty popular because I don't act like I hate being there. For the most part, I really like my job."

He nodded. "You had dreams of becoming an actress, like your mother. May I ask what happened?"

She gave him a self-deprecating grin. "Yeah, well… It's highly doubtful I would have ever made it. Anyway, my dad's older sister, my aunt Grace was having some health problems and needed help around here. I wanted to get out of my dad and step-mother's house, so when they asked me if I'd like to move here, I jumped at the chance," she told him, getting two mugs out of the cupboard.

As she poured cream and sugar into one and gestured for him to help himself, she went on. "I lived here and helped her out until she passed away. I went to the local community college, about half an hour away, but I never could settle on what I wanted to do. When Aunt Grace's will was read, she had left everything to me. Not that it was much. Just the house and the land, the barn with all of its inhabitants… I like it here. I don't belong here, but then I figured out a long time ago that I don't really belong anywhere…" Her voice trailed off, her coffee forgotten in her hands.

"What do you mean?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested in her story.

She grinned again and shrugged. "Oh, that's just me being philosophical and deep," she said, and laughed, waving it off. "What sounds good for breakfast?"

Jareth stared at her, frowning slightly. "Breakfast?"

"Don't tell me you don't eat breakfast," she said, glad to have sidetracked his interest in what she had said. She would have to be more careful in what she told him. "Not when you can make killer eggs like you do."

Jareth laughed. "I do eat breakfast, yes," he said. "I guess I let my mind wander for a moment. Whatever you want to prepare is fine with me."

Nodding, Sarah went over to the pantry. "Oatmeal it is," she said, setting the cylindrical box on the counter. "Do you like blueberries?"

"Very much, yes," he said.

"Me too."

She worked efficiently, chatting about her regular customers and telling him funny stories about mixed-up food orders. After breakfast, Sarah hurried around the house, changing into her uniform and brushing her long hair into a ponytail. She glanced at Jareth self-consciously. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching as she applied her makeup.

"You're making me nervous," she told him, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He smiled. "Why is that?" he asked. "I simply enjoy watching you. You are far more entertaining than the television."

Sarah laughed, feeling more flattered than he probably intended with his remark. "Thanks, I think…" Then her eyes widened. "Oh, gosh! I brought you home a pie, and you didn't eat any of it for breakfast! I forgot all about it!"

Shrugging his good shoulder, he said, "We shall have some together, this evening when you return home from work."

"Okay," she replied, pleased at his suggestion. It almost allowed her to believe that he looked forward to her return. "Oh, and tomorrow we can go shopping and get you some shoes," she said.

"What is wrong with my boots?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

Sarah smiled, biting her lower lip. "Well… you might get away with them if I lived in California, but the high heels will only get you beat up around here, Jareth. You need some shoes that are more… masculine… by Aboveground standards."

The look on his face made her feel terrible for saying anything. "You dislike my footwear," he stated flatly, as if the idea bothered him greatly.

To be honest, that wasn't true at all. On any other man, his boots and clothing would look rather… flamboyant. But on Jareth, even with the glamour he'd worn when she first met him, it was all rather a huge turn-on. And as amazing as he looked now, in what he claimed was his true form, she found that she missed the long, wild hair and dramatic attire. "It's not me," she said quickly, knowing he must be wondering what she was thinking about. "I like your boots. I'm talking about the rest of the town, though, Jareth. I mean… if I were to come visit Underground again, I'm sure you'd warn me that my jeans would be frowned upon, right?"

A strange look flitted across his face and then was gone. "Yes," he agreed, reinforcing it with a nod of understanding. "You are right, of course. I shall defer to your opinion, Sarah."

Grinning, she turned back to the mirror and applied a thin coat of lip-gloss. "Okay, then… I'm ready to go. I'm sorry to leave you alone again… I know it must be pretty boring when I'm gone." Realizing how that sounded, she flinched. "Not that it's much better when I'm here, I'm sure, but at least you have someone to talk to."

He tilted his head quizzically, as though scrutinizing her. "That is what you believe? That you are merely 'someone to talk to'?" he questioned.

"I need to get going," she replied, slipping past him and out of the bathroom.

Smirking, he followed her. "Soon, Sarah, I _will_ find a way to get answers out of you, and not evasions."

Laughing, she turned around to face him as she slipped on a sweater against the cool early fall day. "Oh, yeah? Like how? Playing truth or dare?"

"What is this 'truth or dare'?" he asked, his keen eyes alight with curiosity.

Shaking her head, Sarah held up a hand. "Never mind," she said. "Nothing. I take it back." She had forgotten about his love of games, she was never getting out of this one.

He stepped closer to her and leaned down to speak into her ear. "Have you not yet learned, Sarah," he said, his voice like a purr, "that you can never 'take it back'? You will face the consequences of your words tonight, when you tell me all about 'truth or dare'."

Sarah had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling as his warm breath tickled her ear. "Crap," she muttered, stepping back from him and hoping he didn't realize his effect upon her. "I'll uh… see you tonight," she said, turning and going out the door in a rush.


	6. Chapter 6

Jareth looked out the window for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was now nearly nine o'clock, and Sarah wasn't home yet. She had said 'a little after eight'. Frowning, he wondered if she were avoiding him. Had he really upset her with his demand to learn the game of truth and dare?

When he looked a sixth time, he saw the headlights of her vehicle coming up the drive. Moving back over to the chair, he sat down and picked up the book he'd been reading, shifting into a position of nonchalance and relaxation. He didn't even look up when she opened the door and stepped into the house.

"Hey," she said, sounding weary. She set down her purse and keys, then pulled off her sweater and draped it on a hook by the door.

He took his time looking up, fully prepared to greet her with friendly but disinterested casualness. However, when his eyes met hers, he saw that she had been crying. Then he saw that her arms were bruised. "Good god, Sarah, what happened to you?" he demanded, jumping up as the book fell to the floor.

"I'm okay," she said, but she looked miserable. Sherlock rubbed her legs, looking up at her in concern. "Jake stopped at the diner to 'talk' after my shift. He'd been at the bar with his buddies," she said, as if that explained everything.

"And?" he prompted, holding one of her arms in his hand as he examined the dark smudges where the lunatic Jake's fingers had squeezed. "Go on."

"It's nothing," she insisted. "He just… he was upset, and he doesn't understand—I mean, him seeing you here really rattled him. He's never done anything like this before."

Jareth shook his head, his anger at the obnoxious veterinarian at an all-time high. "Sarah, listen to me. It is not 'nothing' when a man mistreats a woman. I don't care if he doesn't understand why you do not find him irresistible. Have you seen your arms?"

Tears filled her eyes and she said quietly, "No. I bruise easily, though. It's not as bad as it looks, Jareth. Honestly, I—"

"You defend him as though what happened was your doing," he replied, his voice full of contempt, not for her but for Jake. "Sarah, in the Underground, men cherish women, be they wives, sisters, mothers… and it ought to be that way here, as well. This is… this is unacceptable!"

"Please don't make a big deal of it, Jareth," she said, grasping at his shirt. "It'll only make things worse for me if you do anything to him."

He took a deep breath to calm himself, pulling Sarah into his arms. She didn't resist, but tentatively put her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. "This is the extent of the damage? He didn't injure you further?"

"No. He just grabbed my arms and squeezed too hard. He even apologized when I said he was hurting me," she said shakily.

Closing his eyes, he could scarcely believe he was agreeing to her request. Then again, when had he ever denied her anything? "All right."

He felt her sag against him in relief, and hoped he had done the right thing. "But if he ever touches you again, I want to know about it. Go make yourself comfortable, Sarah. Take a bath, if you wish, and when you are ready, we shall indulge in the pie you brought home last night."

Sarah nodded against his chest and then moved back slightly, giving him a shy smile. "Okay."

Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom. She was in considerably more elegant pajamas tonight – emerald green satin pants and top and a black satin robe and matching slippers. Giving her a smile as she came into the living room, he saw that she blushed.

"A gift from Karen," she explained. "I've never worn it before. It seems too… fancy for when I'm alone. But with a king as a houseguest, I thought it was appropriate."

"You look lovely," he said, enjoying her discomfiture. "Sarah, you really _must_ learn to take a compliment."

She sat down on the couch, resting her feet on the coffee table. "Sorry," she said, then laughed. "Why are you still dressed? Don't you want to get comfortable too?"

"I would love nothing more, but…" he grinned, raising his eyebrows at her. "I have no nightclothes."

Sarah closed her eyes. "Oh… I hadn't thought of that," she admitted, sounding embarrassed. "Okay, well, tomorrow it's shopping for shoes _and_ pajamas, then."

He smiled in response. "So… pie?" he asked.

"Oh! I almost forgot…" she said, starting to get up.

Putting his hand on her shoulder, he patted it and then stood. "Stay and rest, Sarah, you have been on your feet all day. Allow me."

Jareth found plates and forks, setting them out on the counter. Opening the pie box, he sliced two generous helpings and put them on the plates. Retrieving two paper napkins, he carried everything back into the living room on a tray Sarah kept on top of the refrigerator.

"Thanks," she said, taking one of the pieces of pie from him.

"And now," he said slyly, "Something else you might have forgotten, but which I have _not_… How does one play truth or dare?"

She made a face. "Oh, come on, Jareth," she nearly whined. "I was only kidding. It's basically a kid's game… I mean, you take turns asking questions, but you get to choose if you'd rather answer the question or take the dare."

"What kind of dare?" he asked, curious both about the game and her reaction to the thought of playing it with him.

Shrugging, she took a bite of pie, chewing slowly. "I don't know. Anything, really. Um… sing a song, or flap your arms like a chicken flapping its wings. The point is to make the dare so unappealing that answering the question is preferable. And if the dare is accepted, it benefits or amuses the other person."

"Ah," he replied, nodding. "I like the sound of this game. We will play it right now."

"I don't want to," she said, shaking her head.

He stared at her. "Sarah, don't defy me," he said, lifting one eyebrow. "I am a king, as you just pointed out, and I am your guest. I wish to play."

She wavered. "I have other games. Real games. Monopoly… Uno… Aggravation… cards… dice."

"Do any of them involve truths and dares?" he asked.

"Well… No."

"Then I do not wish to play them."

With a sigh, Sarah conceded. "Fine. But if we're going to play this, I'm going to need something stronger than boysenberry pie," she observed, setting down her plate and heading into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a bottle of some sort of alcohol and two small glasses. "We'll do shots. You do a shot when it's your turn, I'll do a shot when it's my turn."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "This will severely hinder the ability to continue the game past a few questions," he said.

She nodded, pleased. "Exactly."

"Then," he replied, taking the bottle from her hand, "we shall only take a shot every third turn. No more."

"Party pooper," she accused. "Okay, who's going first?"

Jareth smiled. "You may go first, if you desire."

"Ha!" she said with a grin. "Good. And remember that the whole point is that you have to tell the truth. No lies, no bending the truth… tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So… Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Can you really not use your magic until your wing is healed?" she asked.

He nearly collapsed in relief that her question was so easy to answer truthfully. Perhaps this would be more fun than he initially thought. "Yes, I really cannot. I am unable to deliberately change to owl form, and I can't even communicate with my subjects."

She seemed surprised, and he felt a small stab of pain that she had felt he might be lying to her. Shaking it off, he smiled. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," she said decisively.

He leaned forward slightly, to better look into her eyes. "Are you truly happy here, Sarah?" he asked, gratified to see her eyes widen in surprise at his first question.

A slight frown creased her brow as she thought about it. "The way you word the question… it's as if I could be somewhere else, which I can't really be. I mean, this is where I am. And it's a difficult question to answer." She paused to take a bit of pie. "I guess I'm reasonably happy. I mean, I have my family, even though they're far away. I have my friends, a decent job, this house, the animals… overall, yes, I'm happy."

He nodded slowly. She had answered his question but he had read between the lines, and he already began to think of a way to word future queries.

"Your turn. Truth or dare."

"Truth," he replied.

"Are you married?" she asked, laughing a little.

He started at her in dismay. His mind frantically raced, and he finally asked, "What is the dare?"

Sarah blinked, clearly taken aback by his response as he had been at her question. "Um…" She looked down at her feet, resting on the coffee table. Smirking, she shifted so that they rested over his knees. "I dare you to rub my feet."

Jareth nearly choked on the bite of pie he had just taken. She certainly had backed him into a corner, even though she had done it in complete innocence. To touch her so intimately could be… interesting for them both. Even without magic, his touch, without gloves, could cause very extreme reactions. He would have to be careful… Glancing at her, he saw that she fully expected him to balk and opt to answer the question. Instead, he set his pie aside. Gently he took hold of her legs and pulled them onto his lap. He wrapped a hand around one of her feet and began to knead the sole.

Sarah gasped, her green eyes widening as they flew from his hands to his face. He smiled slightly and shrugged. "My turn. Truth or dare," he said quietly.

"Uh… truth, I guess," she said, squirming a little. He could tell she was still trying to figure out why he hadn't simply answered the question.

"Did your adventure through the Labyrinth end to your satisfaction?" he asked, his fingers applying expert pressure to the arch of her foot.

Sarah licked her lips, and he noticed that her face was pink. She was doing a good job of hiding the effect he was having on her, but he could still sense what it was doing to her. After a moment, she said, "My objective was to get Toby back. He was my motivation. I wished him away, so I had to get him back. I did that. So yes; in that regard it did end to my satisfaction. Truth or dare?"

From the look on her face, he knew that the same question would be asked if he chose truth. "Dare."

"Oh, come on!" she cried, frustrated. "Unless you're eight, the dare part is a bit stupid, although I will say that was one _hell_ of a foot rub," she said.

Jareth smiled and inclined his head. "Nevertheless… dare."

She huffed out a breath of air. "Oh, all right. I dare you to let me rub your feet," she said, looking speculative.

Speechless, Jareth stared at her. She had started off ingenuously enough, but clearly she was an expert truth or dare player. "And… if I were to agree to truth?"

"Same question," she shrugged. "It's an easy question. Yes or no."

Shaking his head, Jareth lifted Sarah's legs by the calves and slid them onto the couch. leaned down and pulled off his boots, then the socks he had found in the drawer. "Just a quick rub, then," he said uneasily.

Sarah looked mildly annoyed at first, but then grinned as she stared at his bare feet. Shifting so that her feet rested on the coffee table again, she patted her lap. Sherlock, who had taken up residence in the chair, glanced up to see if his mistress was summoning him. When he saw that she was not, he lay his head back down. Smiling at the cat's disappointment, Jareth complied with Sarah's bidding, resting his bare feet on her lap. When her hands touched him, he almost came out of his skin. How had Sarah concealed her reaction, when to her it would have been unexpected? When she began to rub his soles, he had to refrain from moaning.

"Take a shot," she said, gesturing to the bottle. "It's your third turn."

"Oh," he replied, glad for the distraction. He swallowed, feeling the liquor burn on its way down. Trying everything he could think of to keep from focusing on how Sarah's hands felt against his skin and how his entire body was reacting, he tried to remember his next question.

"Truth? Or dare?"

"Since I'm already busy here, truth."

He gave her a crooked smile and she looked alarmed. It was almost certain that the look on his face was becoming predatory; it couldn't be helped. What Sarah was doing was tantamount to foreplay for him. "In what regard did your adventure through the Labyrinth _not_ end satisfactorily?"

She frowned. "You already asked that question," she hedged.

"No, I did not. I asked a similar question," he pointed out. "I'm tackling it from a different angle this time. Do you need me to repeat the question? Or maybe explain the difference?"

"No," she answered. "Okay… It ended unsatisfactorily in the regard that I was afraid that I'd done something terrible to you with my words," she said, not looking at him. Instead, she kept her gaze on his feet. She had stopped rubbing them but she seemed to be fascinated with them. Her index finger was lightly tracing the bones of his feet, which was almost worse. After a moment, she went on. "I… Afterward, I always thought you might… come back, but you didn't. And I never could bring myself to ask Hoggle or the others what had really happened to you. If you were… okay."

Jareth slowly moved his feet from Sarah's lap before he lost all control. "A shot," he nearly choked out. Pouring her one, he handed it to her as she watched him curiously, a somewhat satisfied gleam in her eyes. She had been testing him, to see if he reacted to her touch as she had reacted to his.

"Oh!" She took it from him and downed it, setting the shot glass down on the table. "Truth or dare," she said. "And you can't take three dares in a row, just so you know."

Frowning, Jareth said, "You didn't state that rule earlier, before we began to play."

"I just remembered," she replied. "At least that's the way I've always played. But… you're right. Since you didn't know, you can have the option of one more dare. But after that you have to take truth. Deal?"

"It is a deal. Dare."

"I'm having a hard time coming up with dares, Jareth," she complained.

"Dare," he repeated flatly.

She rolled her eyes. "I dare you to show me some of your glamours. You said you could do a lot of them… show me."

"I will show you three," he said, "because though they do not require magic, they do require a small amount of effort, and too many will tax me, with my injured shoulder."

"Okay," she agreed. "You get to choose two and then I'll choose the last one."

Without giving her any warning, he turned into Ludo. "Look familiar?" he asked. Even the weight adjusted, and Sarah's couch creaked noisily in protest. Sherlock's eyes grew to twice their size. Hissing, he hopped off the chair and ran into Sarah's bedroom.

"Oh, wow! You look just like Ludo! That's amazing!" she cried, clapping her hands like a young child. "Do another!"

He complied, a feeling of contentment overcoming him at being able to make her so happy. Within seconds, he had shed the Ludo glamour and shifted, growing smaller, scabbier, and much less hairy.

"Hoggle!" she said. "Did you ever do this when I was in the Labyrinth before? Was I ever with you when I thought I was with Hoggle or Ludo?"

Jareth grinned and shook his head… _Hoggle's_ head… waggling a stumpy finger at her. "That's another question," he told her. "Save it for next time," he advised, hoping she would, so he wouldn't have to answer the question he knew she wanted to ask. "Your turn."

"Be you," she said, "I mean, the glamour you used when I was in the Labyrinth before. Be the Goblin King I remember."

His smile faltered. It was an odd request, he thought. "In which incarnation? If you'll recall, I had many outfit changes during your brief time there."

She bit her lip as she considered, and he wondered why she looked so nervous. "Well… your ballroom look was very nice, but… I think I'd prefer what you wore in the tunnel. Just before you set the cleaners on me."

"As you wish," he said quietly, and, standing up, was transformed.

Sarah merely stared at him for a moment, then she, too, stood. "You're exactly as I remember you," she said, seeming almost mesmerized. Moving over to the wall, she leaned her back against it, her eyes glued to him. "You were disguised as a beggar…" she trailed off.

"Yes," he agreed, walking toward her as he had that day, which is what he suspected she wanted. "And when I asked how you were enjoying my Labyrinth, you said…"

"It's a piece of cake," she answered in a whisper. Her eyes widened as he drew nearer, leaning in toward her. He remembered how her gaze had flicked down before quickly coming back up to meet his in defiance. This time, however, she dropped her gaze and then ever so slowly let it travel back up the length of his body.

"Truth or dare, Sarah?" he whispered, not moving from his position.

She blinked, her gaze not leaving his. "Truth."

"Did you want me to kiss you that day, in the tunnel?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

Her eyes closed and she swallowed hard. "More than anything."

It was enough for him. He leaned into her, his body pinning hers to the wall as he had wanted to that long-ago day when she was in his Labyrinth. Ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder, he murmured, "Mine." Covering her mouth with his, he heard her whimper as her hands came up to tangle in the long strands of his hair. Snaking one arm around her waist, he pulled her away from the door, his lips never leaving hers. She pressed into him, her mouth warm and yielding beneath his. His other hand made its way to the back of her neck, grabbing a fistful of her thick hair.

The kiss ended far too soon for his liking. Sarah backed away, covering her mouth with her hand. She was trembling, her eyes wide with surprise at what they had just done, and no doubt at the sensations it had awakened in her. He knew, because he was feeling it, too. Wondering what to say, he longed to kiss her again but was reluctant to do given her reaction to the first kiss.

He needn't have worried. Sarah's green eyes flashed as she looked him up and down again. "Change back," she said softly.

Jareth complied, frowning slightly and trying to recall whose turn it was in the game. Before he could ask her, however, she made an odd little desperate sound and flung herself at him again, wrapping her arms around his midsection and pushing herself against his body. Again pain flared in his shoulder, but he wasn't about to protest.

Their lips met in a frenzy and Sarah couldn't seem to get close enough to him to be satisfied. He let her take the lead, holding her tightly. Her hands came up and threaded through his hair as she had done on the porch. He could have stayed all night entwined in her arms.

Once again, Sarah quickly pulled away, breathing as heavily as he. She stared at him for a long moment. "Truth, Jareth," she said, reminding him that it was his turn, and that he was fresh out of dares, at least for this round.

He nodded warily, confused at her sudden resumption of the game. "Ask me."

"Are you married?" she asked, her voice shaking as though she already suspected the answer. "Yes or no."

He was bound by the rules of the game as well as the rules of his nature; she had asked a yes or no question and would receive a yes or no answer. Even if she wanted an elaboration, which he knew she wouldn't because she wouldn't understand, she was not ready for it, regardless of what they had just done… and what they had nearly just done.

"Yes. I am."

Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded mutely. "Right." Moving backward, she kept him in sight until her legs bumped the coffee table. Turning, she picked up the bottle of liquor. Spinning around, she saluted him sarcastically. "Bastard," she said, before heading for her room.

"Sarah, wait," he called after her even though he knew she wouldn't come back. "It's my turn."

"Go to hell," she yelled, slamming her door.

He stared at the closed door for a long moment and then sighed heavily. "Damn," he hissed, then realized that she had not tended to his shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah woke up and cringed. Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was the bottle of tequila sitting on her nightstand. Fortunately she had been too tired and too upset to drink too much more of it before passing out. Her face flushed at the memory of what she had done last night. She had asked Jareth to dress up for her so she could act out one of her long-standing fantasies on him. She had attacked him, not once but twice, because upon his changing back she realized that he was even sexier _that_ way… Then she had asked him if he was married and he had said…

Yes.

Jareth was married. Why had it come as such a surprise? Frowning, she wondered who the it was that held such an important place in Jareth's life. She'd better appreciate him; that was all Sarah had to say. But if she did, and was good to him, then why was he cheating on her with a mortal Aboveground? Well… he may not have technically cheated, but he had kissed her _twice_, which was bad enough!

Actually, she admitted to herself as she buried her face in her pillow, she had kissed him. He may have gone along with it, but could she really blame him? She had already acknowledged that the attraction was far stronger on her own part. Had she taken advantage of Jareth? Here he was, away from home, injured and unable to get back. He was dependent on her… had he let her kiss him so she wouldn't kick him out?

"Oh, gosh…"

How was she going to face him? Moaning, she dragged herself out of bed and grabbed some clothes. Peeking out her door, she saw that his was mostly closed, so he was probably still sleeping. Sneaking into the bathroom, she showered and changed, deciding the best way to handle the situation was to pretend nothing had happened. Maybe he would come to the conclusion that she had been drunk.

When she emerged, Jareth was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, in jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare. Her heart gave a little tug. This was a sight she could easily get used to, and yet in a few weeks he would be gone. Once his shoulder healed, he would be able to transform and fly, and… As he looked up to meet her eyes, she gasped. "Your shoulder! I never redressed it for you last night!"

He gave her a small, uncertain smile. "Well… we were otherwise engaged, and then you fled."

Ignoring his reference to their make-out session and her subsequent cowardice, she said, "If you shower now, I'll take care of it for you. Then we can go shopping."

Nodding, he stood, eyeing her warily. "All right. Thank you," he replied somewhat stiffly, as though sensing her intention to sweep last night under the proverbial rug.

She watched as he disappeared into his bedroom with her cat at his feet like a little shadow. He emerged a moment later with a pile of clothes. Once she heard the bathroom door close, she relaxed. It appeared that Jareth had eaten a bowl of cold cereal, so she rinsed his bowl and had the same. Then she went outside and took care of the animals, let the goats out, gave Ziggy a scratch, then went back into the house to wait for Jareth.

When he came out of the bathroom, she bandaged his shoulder. He thanked her and announced, his tone still rather formal, that he was ready to go shopping. Without waiting for a response, he went outside to wait for her on the porch.

Frowning, Sarah resolved to clear the air. She grabbed her purse and keys and followed him out. "Look," she said, touching his arm lightly. "I was out of line to get so upset last night. There was no reason for it. I initiated the… what happened between us, and I'm sorry. I would never want to break up your… that is, if I had known…" She paused, feeling embarrassed. "Oh, look, can we just pretend it didn't happen?"

Jareth narrowed his eyes at her. "_You_ can, if you'd rather," he replied. "I shall not. And Sarah, you would do well to remember that when it comes to the Underground, things are not always what they seem. That includes things regarding the Goblin King."

She didn't know why, but his words made her feel somewhat better. Not better enough to snog him again right here on the porch, of course, but better. "So… are you ready to get some shoes and pajamas?"

"I am," he said with a slight smile.

The shopping expedition was successful; Jareth found two pairs of shoes and two pairs of pajamas to his liking, and it didn't break Sarah's bank _too_ much. She had taken him to Bargain Mart and didn't bother explaining that it wasn't exactly the kind of place where royalty would shop. He probably knew it anyway, but had the grace not to comment.

He had requested to see the diner she worked at, so she had complied. She got to eat there for free, after all, and her boss had said Jareth's meal was on the house as well. They both ordered burgers and fries.

Thankfully, conversation between them wasn't necessary because her co-workers and many of the 'regulars' were curious to meet Jareth, especially those of the female population. Jareth was very capable of answering questions he wanted to and smoothly evading ones he didn't, as she had found out last night until she backed him into a corner.

Again her mind wandered to his confession. Even if things were 'not what they seemed,' married _was_ married. He had a wife, a queen. She must be worried sick about him. Jareth laughed at something their waitress, Nancy, was saying, and her heart gave that familiar tug. There was something about Jareth that she found infinitely appealing. He had something that she had failed to find in any other man and likely never would.

Once back home, Sarah went into the house to launder Jareth's new pajamas and some other articles of his clothing.

"I'm going to go outside for a while," he said, not looking at her. A moment later, she heard the door close. She sensed that he was feeling a bit put out with her, and it made her feel guilty. It felt altogether wrong, after the easy camaraderie they had established so quickly.

She got the laundry going and then wiped down the kitchen counters. Glancing out the window she didn't see Jareth, which worried her, but wanted to give him his space. She dusted the furniture in the living room, cleaned the sink and toilet in the bathroom, and shook out the kitchen rugs. He still had not returned to the house. Frustrated, Sarah whipped up batter for brownies and put them in the oven, and washed up the bowl and utensils. Next she cleaned the inside of the fridge, polished the toaster and swept the floors.

Glancing at the clock, Sarah was surprised that it was almost dinner time. She wasn't hungry, and figured Jareth probably wasn't, either. It took her ten minutes to debate with herself whether she should go find him or not, during which time she fed and brushed Sherlock. Deciding to preserve her sanity, she finally headed outside. Looking around, she didn't see him, but she noticed that the barn door was open.

Had he reverted to owl form? Had he figured out how to switch? Or had he gotten some magic back? She felt panic rising in her throat; she was supposed to have him here for at least another few weeks; he had only been here two, and only two days in human form… Frowning, she headed resolutely toward the barn. She wondered at her protestation at the thought of him leaving so soon. Why did she care so much? But she already knew the answer to _that_…

Jareth _was_ in the barn. He had his back to her and seemed to be cradling something in his arms. She could hear him speaking, but the words were not English. It almost sounded Irish, or Gaelic, and he sounded as though he were attempting to comfort someone, or something.

She stood in the doorway, a bad feeling washing over her. A glance at Ziggy's perch told her he wasn't on it, bobbing his head in excited greeting as he usually was. Tears clouded her vision as she suddenly comprehended that something was terribly wrong.

Moving forward slowly, so as not to startle man or bird, she stepped closer to Jareth and lightly touched his shoulder. He didn't seem surprised to see her there; in fact, he barely looked at her. His attention was on the owl in his arms, and his sorrowful expression frightened Sarah.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, reaching out to touch Ziggy's head. He hooted weakly but otherwise didn't respond.

Jareth swallowed. "I'm not sure," he said, his voice strained. "It makes no sense, but it's as if he experienced some sort of trauma. Perhaps he was startled by something and attempted to fly, banging into the wall."

"I can call Jake, he can—"

But Jareth was shaking his head so she stopped, her words trailing off. "No. He has bleeding on the brain. Any attempts to save him would only prolong his suffering, Sarah. I am sorry."

Hot tears slid down her face. "Oh, Ziggy," she whispered, burying her face in Jareth's arm. She cried for a moment over the loss of the owl she had cared for since he had lost his wing due to a shot from a bow and arrow. "Jareth, how did you know?"

"I… sensed that something was wrong," he said. "I have a strange kinship with owls, even when I am not one myself. He was already too far gone when I realized something was wrong, which I gather means whatever happened, happened recently."

Her chest tightened as she heard Ziggy's raspy breathing. "I can't do this. I can't stand here and… Jareth, I'm sorry. Can you…?"

"Of course," he said softly. "It won't be long, Sarah. I'll stay with Ziggy."

She nodded and fled the barn, entering the house just as the oven timer went off, alerting her that the brownies were finished baking. She took them out to cool, covering them lightly with foil and then turned off the oven. Then she hurried to the privacy of her room to grieve. There was no way she could watch Ziggy die. He had become a friend to her; she always made friends more easily with animals and beings from another world than she did with any other humans. What did that say about her? She cried until she was exhausted and fell asleep, Sherlock at her side as he always was when he sensed her distress.

It was dark when Sarah opened her eyes. Sniffling, she sat up and glanced around her darkened bedroom. She wondered if Jareth had come into the house or if he was still outside, waiting for poor Ziggy to die. He had surprised her, standing there in her barn, cradling a dying owl. The expression of sadness on his face had impressed upon her that he honestly was a compassionate being. True, he was multi-faceted, and she loved his demanding nature, sarcasm and narcissistic nature even if she pretended otherwise. But it was nice to know that he could also be gentle and kind.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Getting up, she padded into the living room to find Jareth asleep on the couch. A glance at the clock told her it was much later than she had guessed. Rather than wake Jareth, she put a blanket over him. He didn't even stir; his face was etched with sadness, however, and she knew that Ziggy was gone.

Back in her room, she changed into her pajamas and lay on the bed. Despite the fact that she had just napped for several hours, sleep overtook her quickly. She dreamed all night, tossing and turning restlessly. Her dreams were all unpleasant, and all featured her losing Jareth in one way or another. When she woke in the morning, she knew that her feelings for him were growing. Even though she knew he was married and therefore not free, she wanted him for herself. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything or anyone in her life.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth woke with the dawn, smiling as he found the blanket Sarah had put over him. He showered and changed, then peered into her bedroom to see her face down on the mattress, one arm dangling over the side, her ridiculous cat pajama bottoms pushed up to her knees. As she was snoring softly, he didn't have the heart to wake her.

Ziggy's heart had stopped beating five minutes after Sarah had gone into the house. Jareth had found a small graveyard some hundred yards from the barn, so he had found a shovel, dug a small grave as best he could with his good arm, and buried Ziggy there. Thankfully, the dirt was soft and easily turned. His brow puckered in thought, he dug another one right beside it, and then filled it in again. If anyone asked, they would explain that Ziggy and Jareth had both contracted avian tuberculosis and died before the veterinarian could be called. It handily solved the issue of his own owl disappearance.

Exhausted, he had gone into the house and found Sarah asleep. After reading for about five minutes, he had fallen asleep on the couch, not even waking when Sarah had come out and covered him before going to bed herself.

Putting on a pair of his new shoes, he went outside and let the goats out, then fed the chickens and cats. He even cleaned out the goats' pen so that Sarah wouldn't have to do it when she got up. She hadn't said if she worked today or not; he rather hoped she didn't.

When he went back inside, he found her awake and dressed, having her coffee and a slice of toast. She watched as he sat down at the table with her, an indefinable sad look in her eyes. "I'm sorry about Ziggy," he said.

"Me too," she said with a sigh. "He was such a sweet bird. I'm really going to miss him."

"I… decided to dig two graves side by side," he told her. "That way the reserve won't be after you about my… whereabouts."

She nodded. "That was a good idea. We can just explain that both owls…"

"Contracted an avian disease and died," he finished with a shrug.

Pursing her lips, she nodded again. It seemed as if she was about to say something else, but changed her mind.

"Must you work today?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Ten to six today," she told him. "I'll be home for dinner."

Jareth found it very difficult to hide his disappointment.

The day passed by with excruciating slowness. He read, took a walk, read some more, took a nap, started another book, rummaged through Sarah's cupboards looking for something to cook, finally settling on a soufflé that was ready when she walked in the door.

"What smells so wonderful?" she asked.

He looked up from chopping ingredients for the salad and smiled. "That would be dinner, my lady," he said. "Change out of your peasant garb and join me."

She gave him an ironic smile. "Jareth, all of my garb is peasant garb."

"Not for long," he sang to himself as she headed down the hall to change. A moment later, he heard the shower start, and seconds after that heard her customary yelp as the temperature changed on her.

When she returned, he was just putting the finishing touches on the table. Though it was in the kitchen, because she had no dining room, he thought it looked suitably romantic. The flowers from her garden looked lovely by candlelight, and the tablecloth he had found in the linen closet added elegance to the scarred old table. He had poured wine for them both, and picked up a glass, handing it to her as she entered.

She took his breath away. Her hair damp, no makeup on her face, she was wearing a simple sleeveless red dress which fell down around her slim ankles and bare feet. She wore no jewelry or other accessories, and yet she looked more beautiful the most adorned princess or queen he had ever laid eyes upon.

Their eyes locked for a long moment and then Sarah looked away, clearing her throat as she took in the scene. "Wow," she said, looking distinctly nervous. "This looks… I mean, it's lovely, but it almost looks like a… date." She flinched as she said the word 'date'.

Jareth merely smiled and pulled out a chair for her. "It's just dinner, Sarah." Gesturing toward Sherlock, he grinned wider. "Look, we even have a chaperone."

She sighed and nodded, taking a seat as he gently pushed her chair in, then brought over two plates of salad. Setting one in front of her, he set the other one at his own place and sat down. "Tell me about your day."

She did, beginning to relax. They ate slowly, talking about everything and nothing, and avoiding the sad subject of Ziggy. Jareth enjoyed just listening to the cadence of her voice, watching her facial expressions as she talked about things that made her laugh, were annoying or frustrating, or that she took very seriously. She tried to engage him by asking questions, but he had learned last night what a danger that could be, and tried to steer the conversation back to her every time.

"Oh, by the way," she said. "My friend Lynne, Lacey's mom, is having a dinner party tomorrow evening. Just a few people are invited. She heard about you… because you were with me in the diner and because Lacey has met you… and she wants the two of us to come," she went on, nervously poking the soufflé with her fork. "I told her I'd have to check with you but that you probably wouldn't want to go—"

"Nonsense," he said briskly. "I would love to attend. Please call her and tell her we accept."

Sarah's face fell. "You… you _want_ to go? I didn't think it would be a good idea…"

"Why not?"

She frowned, looking down at her plate. "Well, they think that we're… that we're…"

"Together," he supplied confidently. "Yes, that was the general idea, was it not? What is the problem exactly, Sarah?"

He saw the spark in her eyes then. Not the spark of irritation, but the spark of desire. It wasn't something she would tolerate all of the time, but Sarah was clearly rather… 'turned on'… by his occasional displays of kingly attitude.

"I didn't say it was a problem," she argued, stabbing salad with her fork. "I just said I didn't think you'd want to go."

"But the invitation stands?" he persisted, raising his eyebrows.

Nodding, she said, "Yes."

"Then," he said again, "call your friend and tell her we shall be there."

She shrugged, her demeanor changing. He knew that if she figured she would not change his mind, she would adapt as though she had wanted to go all along. It amused him, her need to not be controlled even though she liked him to be controlling.

"I just hope your wife doesn't find out about this," she said, her tone a bit rigid. "I really don't need some psycho possessive Goblin Queen coming up here and breathing down my neck, Jareth."

"You needn't worry about her," he replied casually, picking up a roll. Tearing a bit off, he reached across the table, offering it to her. As she opened her mouth to accept it, he said, "I have her eating out of my hand."

Sarah nearly choked on the bread, grabbing her wine and taking a swallow, her eyes tearing up. Jareth got up and filled a glass with water, handing it to her. She drank it gratefully as he patted her back, asking, "Was it something I said?"

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah frowned at Jareth as he took her hand as they approached Lynne's front door. She hadn't even had time to talk to him about what to say and not to say tonight. After dinner the previous night, they had watched a movie together, and then this morning, Sarah had to be to work early. She had had just enough time to come home and get ready to leave for Lynne's, and now here they were at her door.

"Sarah!" Lynne cried. "And you must be Jareth. Nice to meet you. Come in, come in!"

The dinner party turned out to be very small indeed. Lacey had opted to go to the movies with her boyfriend and a group of friends, so it was just Lynne and her husband Bob, Sarah and Jareth, and Jake's sister Julie and her fiancé Mike. Lynne introduced Jareth to everyone as he was the only person at the table who knew no one but Sarah.

Jareth charmed Lynne and Julie and made Bob and Mike laugh with his easy humor. Sarah was pleasantly surprised that he didn't say anything out of sorts and even downplayed their relationship. "Sarah is kind enough to allow me to stay with her while I'm here visiting," he explained. "We were more than friends at one time, it's true. She's quite a catch."

"Jakey sure thought so too," Julie said happily. "But Sar, between you and me, I think Jareth here is a better catch than our local vet." She winked and Sarah blushed.

"Oh, Sarah's considered quite a catch by a lot of bachelors in this town," Mike said, earning an elbow to the ribs from Julie. "Easy now, I didn't say _I_ did, Jules," he complained. "No offense, Sarah, but you know me and blondes."

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "You exaggerate, Mike Swanson," she said, embarrassed to be the center of attention and topic of discussion.

"Sure I do," Mike joked. "But seriously, I could name at least five guys who would give anything to be in Jareth's position right now."

"Is Jareth in a position with you, Sar?" Bob asked, his eyebrows wagging up and down. "Well, Jareth? Come on, you can tell us."

Jareth set down his wine glass. "I believe this conversation has taken an inappropriate turn, causing undue discomfort to Sarah. I ask that we change the subject."

Lynne swatted at Bob but cast a nervous glance at Jareth, then a curious one at Sarah. "Absolutely, I agree. We didn't invite Sarah and Jareth over her to grill them about their relationship… or lack thereof. Has anyone seen any of the new movies that came out last weekend? Lacey and the gang were going to see…"

Lynne's diversion was successful and the topic turned to movies and movie stars, but Sarah hardly heard a word. She glanced at Jareth and mouthed 'thank you' to him, and he smiled briefly before turning his attention to the conversation. She was worried that though he had just defended her honor, she had somehow upset him.

Wanting to right whatever wrong she had committed, she reached over and took his hand, intending to squeeze it briefly and let it go. However, as soon as their hands touched, Jareth jumped slightly, no doubt at the jolt of erotic electricity that she, too, had felt. He grabbed her hand and held on, as though trying to communicate something to her through touch. It took Sarah several minutes to control her breathing.

The rest of the evening was extremely difficult to get through; all Sarah wanted was to get Jareth home and ravage him, his wife be damned. But as they drove back and the contact wore off, she thought better of it. They discussed the evening calmly, neither of them mentioning what had passed between them under the table. But Sarah continually thought about it… and when she went to bed, she dreamed about Jareth all night long.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

"Jareth!"

Jareth woke up and flung off the covers. Had Sarah just called out his name, or had it been a dream? He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was after one in the morning. He was breathing heavily, his heart hammering in his chest.

He had just had the most vivid dream of Sarah. In it, she had launched herself at him as soon as they walked through the door… but it was the door to his chambers at the castle, not here in Sarah's little house. By they time they made it to the bed, their clothing had been discarded. He had never had such an intense, realistic dream in all his life.

He lay back down and tried to calm his erratic breathing, hoping to fall asleep to the same dream. He did. And again he woke up to hear Sarah calling out his name and gasping for breath. Each time the dream was a little different and a little more vivid and real, and each time it went further and further. The fourth time it happened, he woke up just a little bit too early and was in time to hear Sarah scream his name from her bedroom.

Curious and painfully aware of the dream's effect on him, he crawled out of bed and crept down the hall to her room. Moonlight illuminated her bed with a soft light and he saw that her covers were flung off. Instead of the cat pajamas she wore the pink satin ones. Her dream must have ended because she was curled on her side, resting peacefully, but he knew he had heard her call out his name.

If the dreams had originated with Sarah, and he was merely privy to it, how had she known what his room looked like, unless the Labyrinth was feeding her the dreams… or were they future memories?

Things were definitely progressing between them but the going was slow and hindered by the fact that she thought he had a wife. He wondered how she felt about that. Clearly she was at least attracted to him, but how did she feel? He had to increase his efforts. Each day that went by was another day closer to the day he would have to return. He simply had to take her with him. Her work schedule was getting in the way as well. He wanted to spend every moment with her, but she worked six days week. At least she was free tomorrow.

But when he woke up the next day, though he rose early, Sarah had already gone. She left him a note asking him to feed the animals, and stating that she wouldn't be back until late. There was no explanation of where she had gone, and the note was tersely written.

With all of her strenuous dreaming, she couldn't have slept well. He certainly hadn't. Their dreams had been linked all night, but the dreams had all originated with Sarah. The bonding was affecting her strongly, which meant she must be suspicious of him. If she thought he was somehow causing her to dream, that would be why she was avoiding him now.

Jareth sighed. Getting dressed, he went out to the barn muttering to himself in Gaelic about a king in the guise of a hired hand. But within moments, his thoughts were once again absorbed with Sarah, and the nature of her dreams. For someone who clearly had difficulty with intimate relationships, she certainly had no such issues with him... at least in her dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

Sarah sat in her car for a solid ten minutes before going up to knock on Lynne's door.

"Sarah!" she said in surprise. "Long time, no see. Come on in! Lacey's at work, they called her in to cover for Nancy. Did you two have plans?"

Shaking her head, Sarah said, "Not today. I… I actually came to talk to you. I need some advice."

Lynne smiled knowingly. "Advice about that amazing looking man you brought to dinner last night, I'll bet," she replied, nodding at the look on Sarah's face. "I thought there was something going on with you two."

"I just… Lynne, you know me," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I've always had this block when it comes to men. As soon as I start to think they might be more than a friend, I freeze… freak out. It happened with Jake. I thought for sure he was the one. And then, as soon as he kissed me… nothing. I even felt… _guilty_. Why?"

Instead of answering directly, Lynne asked, "How long have you known Jareth?"

"What?" Taken aback, Sarah stared at the older woman. "I… Since I was fifteen. But nothing happened. I mean, I think I was a bit awed by him. He was this handsome, rock-star looking older man, and he paid me a bit of attention, in his own way. It was kind of a crush, although I never would have admitted it then. I thought that as I got older I tried to forget about him. But I think… I think that subconsciously I've been comparing every man to him."

Lynne laughed. "I think you just analyzed your own problem, my dear," she teased. "So why are you here, really?"

Looking at her gratefully, Sarah said, "Because he's going away soon, and besides that, I don't think he thinks of me as anything but a… a nuisance."

Lynne gaped at her. "What in the world makes you think that? The fact that he might have thought of you that way when you were fifteen?" Lynne asked. "Sarah, you're older now. I've seen your pictures… you were a very pretty girl. But you're gorgeous now. Not that the only reason he would be attracted is because of your looks, but face it, he's a man." She laughed. "Why else would he have come here, if not to try to win your affections?"

Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Getting the advice she needed was difficult when she wasn't able to tell the whole truth. "He didn't come here on purpose. He kind of just… ended up here by accident. He was having some issues and found his way here. And I was the only person he knew, so that's why he's staying with me."

"You mean that…" Lynne paused, tapping her chin. "He's sleeping in the spare bedroom?"

"Of course he is!" Sarah replied indignantly. "Lynne, I've never… I mean… You know that I can't… that I've never wanted to… And now, you think that I've got _him_ in my bed?"

Lynne reached over and patted Sarah's hand. "I didn't mean to imply anything untoward, Sarah, but the way you two acted around one another last night… Yeah. I kind of thought so. The tension between you is palpable. We all felt it. Even Bob commented on it after everyone left, and he never notices when the dog's in heat, for goodness sake."

Sarah felt her cheeks flush hotly, thinking about her dreams. Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. "This is terrible," she wailed. "Lynne… why is that when I finally feel something for a guy, it has to be so complicated? He's not from here. He lives far away… has responsibilities there. Not to mention I think you're wrong about him. He doesn't feel anything for me. If I wanted to, he'd probably accommodate me and… sleep with me… but that's because he's a guy, like you said. Not because he… because he…"

"Loves you?" Lynne filled in. "Sarah, I know a thing or two about guys. I have a daughter who's just a few years younger than you, remember? I can always tell when her boyfriends are into her and when they're not. Jareth is… he's _so_ into you. What I see when he looks at you is adoration and love. He damn near worships you," she said, sounding envious.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Lynne, be serious…"

"You should have seen the way he was looking at you all through dinner. And if what you're saying is that you would have to follow him rather than him coming here… Sarah, come on. I'd miss you, we all would, but with your history… to find a man you feel this flustered and hot and bothered about is _something_."

"I don't know," Sarah said, not wanting to commit herself. But she knew Lynne was right, at least where she was concerned. Jareth she wasn't so sure about. What would a king want with a woman like her? Biting down hard on her lip, she scrunched her eyes shut tightly. "There's something I didn't mention before…" she said, unable to believe it had slipped her mind. "He's… married."

"Oh, Sarah," Lynne said, and sighed heavily. "That does change things, doesn't it? I mean… I've seen situations where it all works out and the marriage is already doomed… not that that makes it right, but… And then I've seen situations where the man doesn't want to leave his wife at all, and just expects the girlfriend to be a side dish, which is _so_ not right. Have you asked him if the marriage is faltering?"

Sarah looked up, frowning. "I can't ask him that! It's not as though there's any kind of understanding between us. Nothing has happened…" she trailed off, knowing that wasn't exactly true.

Lynne regarded her sardonically. "You mean the two of you haven't even kissed?" she said.

Licking her lips, Sarah nodded. "Yeah, we've kissed," she admitted, hearing the defeat in her own voice. "I'm pathetic. We were playing truth or dare, and –"

Holding up a hand, Lynne said, "Wait. This calls for coffee and leftover dessert from last night. Wait right there, and give me three minutes. Go into the den, take off your shoes, and get comfortable. I've got all day, honey."

Sarah dropped her head on the table.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth had fallen asleep after a long and boring day of reading and watching the television. Sherlock had followed him around the entire day, and Jareth was growing rather fond of the large cat. He had found Sarah's phone book and had called the people she knew, but no one knew where she was or had seen her. The diner had sounded busy in the background, but Sarah's boss had informed him that she wasn't at work or scheduled to work that day at all.

Lynne didn't answer her phone, though he had left three progressively pathetic messages which he now wished he could magically erase. "Hello, Lynne, this is Jareth," he had said the first time. "I'm looking for Sarah. If you've seen her or spoken to her, could you please telephone me at her house? Thank you."

That had been at ten in the morning. He left the next one at eleven. "Lynne? Or Bob… Lacey… Have any of you spoken to Sarah or happen to know where I may find her? She left a note but didn't tell me where she was going, and I need to speak with her. Please let me know if you've heard from her. Thank you… goodbye."

He had refrained from calling again for three whole hours, but at two-fifteen he had broken down. "Jareth here again. I've called all over town all day looking for Sarah. She's not getting her hair or nails done, she's not at work, she's not with any of her other friends or at the doctor's office. That leaves only you, and all I get is this… blasted recording device. Please… if you…" He had muttered some curse words in Gaelic, as happened when he became overemotional, and hung up the phone.

As he'd been speaking into the machine, it had occurred to him that he had not checked with Jake, the veterinarian. What if Sarah had gone to him? What if she had changed her mind about the poor excuse for a man? Or what if Jake had decided to take off with Sarah against her will?

Looking up the number, he dialed it. Jake's secretary answered on the first ring. "Dr. Jake's," she said, sounding bored.

"Yes, hello. This is Jareth Kingston, a friend of Sarah Williams, and I was wondering if I might have a word with Jake."

"One moment," she replied, placing him on hold. He was forced to listen to atrocious music for nearly five minutes before the line was picked up again.

"Dr. Jake," the voice said.

'Finally,' Jareth thought snidely. "Jake, this is Jareth. I am wondering if you could tell me where Sarah is."

A lengthy pause caused him to wonder if the connection was lost, but the sound of a barking dog told him the veterinarian was still on the line. "Well," Jake said slowly. "I would've thought that out of the two of us, you'd be the one keeping tabs on her now."

Biting back the urge to make a sarcastic retort, Jareth said, "I really must know if you've seen or spoken to her. I… she left early this morning, and I'm concerned for her."

"Oh, now that's just a real shame," Jake intoned with mock sincerity. "Have a little lover's quarrel, did you? Don't tell me. You actually tried to lay a hand on her," he said, laughing bitterly. "That was your first mistake, pal. Welcome to the club."

Seething, Jareth said, "Actually, no. She can't seem to keep her hands off me. Our… difficulty lies in another direction altogether… _pal_." He simply couldn't resist goading the man. At least what he had said was partially true… in dreams Sarah was nearly insatiable.

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Jake said shortly, his tone cold. "I'm about the last person Sarah would seek out right now." With that, he hung up, leaving a loud dial tone in Jareth's ear.

Frustrated, he had gone for a long walk. When he came back, he read, then watched television while he ate leftover soufflé, which was not nearly as good as it had been last night. Finally he fell asleep on the couch.

When he awoke, it was dark. Sitting up, he turned on a lamp and glanced at the clock. It was after eight. Frowning, he stood and moved to the window. Sarah's Jeep was in the driveway. Why had he not heard her come in? She must have been extremely quiet, or he had been sound asleep.

Walking down the hall he saw that her bedroom was dark. "Sarah?" he called softly.

"Yeah?" Her voice came from the bathroom. Turning his head, he saw that the door was closed, and candlelight flickered from the crack at the bottom and top.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his anger at being left alone all day dissipating, replaced with relief that she was back and concern that something was wrong.

He heard her sniff, and knew she was crying. "Uh-huh."

"That's hardly convincing, love," he stated, standing outside the door. He winced when he realized what he'd called her… again. "We need to talk."

"So talk," she replied, a defiant tone in her voice.

Opening the door, he heard her gasp. He stepped into the bathroom and gave her a smug grin. "You did invite me in to talk," he pointed out, watching as she gathered copious amounts of bubbles around her, drawing her knees to her chest.

"I didn't invite you in," she protested. "I said 'talk'."

Seating himself on the commode, he shook his head. "Sarah, it is already beneath me to sit on a toilet in order to have a discussion with you. You can hardly expect me to stand outside a closed door to do so."

She eyed the shower curtain with obvious dismay; it was clear plastic and would give her no protection from his eyes. He quite enjoyed the intimacy of having her naked and sitting in water with only bubbles to cover herself. "What do you want?" she asked, sounding deflated.

"First, I want to know why you are crying," he said. "Then, I want to know where you were all day, and why you left me all alone on the one day you didn't have to work at that infernal diner. After that, we can discuss whatever is causing this behavior of yours, and sort it out."

She smirked at him. "That's a tall order, Dr. Kingston," she replied dryly. "My problems aren't anything you can solve, though."

"Let me be the judge of that," he suggested, letting his eyes take her in now that they had adjusted to the candlelit room. She had her hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard fashion, and her skin was gleaming wet. The water, unfortunately, was almost all the way to the rim. On the other hand, the bubbles couldn't last forever. He smiled.

"What are you so smug about?" she asked.

He lifted a brow. "I was just reflecting upon the short-lived nature of bubble baths, Sarah, so you had best start talking."

Drawing her knees closer to her body, she wrapped her arms around them and glared at him. "I can't believe you," she said, scowling. "Look. I just needed some time alone. It doesn't matter why."

"But it does matter," he said. "You would not have left as you did, leaving only a vague note to me, and snuck in at this time of night, if it did not matter. Something's bothering you, and I want you to tell me what it is. It matters, Sarah."

She frowned. "I can't talk to you about this," she said, shaking her head. "If I could, I would have stayed here in the first place. I needed to… I just had to talk to… " She paused, shaking her head. " I was talking to Lynne, okay?"

"Ah, our hostess from last night," he said. "Lacey's lovely mother."

"Yes."

"On whose answering device I left several ridiculously sad messages begging for information about your whereabouts…"

She looked away. "I'm sorry about that. I was avoiding you."

"Clearly. And what were the two of you talking about?" he prompted.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

He sighed. "All right then," he replied, standing up and picking up her towel. "Come on. Get out."

"What? No!" she cried. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"I do not have time for this, Sarah," he said seriously. Reaching down, he put his hand into the water and unplugged the tub. "Up. Out. Immediately. Or you _will_ regret it."

That odd something flashed in her eyes again, and he resisted a smirk. She was enjoying this. He doubted if she would put up with it from anyone else, but this was exactly what she wanted, whether she realized it or not. It was time for him to take control of the situation. Waiting for her to tell her what was on her mind would be fruitless and a waste of time. She was waiting for him to say or do something, so he saw no reason not to oblige her.

Thrusting out her hand, she grabbed the towel from him. "Fine. Turn around."

"No."

Making an amusing noise of frustration, Sarah unfolded the towel and held it up as a shield as she got awkwardly to her knees. The water was quickly draining, removing the bubbles with it. Not bothering to dry off, she wrapped the towel around her body, refusing to look at him.

Before she could step out, he leaned over the tub and picked her up in his arms, bearing most of her weight in his good arm, wincing as the other one protested.

"Jareth, what are you… You're going to hurt your arm," she protested. He knew the only reason she wasn't struggling was so that she wouldn't hurt him.

"Shh," he admonished, and carried her down the hallway. In her bedroom, he set her down on her feet, but kept one arm around her, pulling her damp body against his. Without giving her a chance to say anything, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss. He had caught her by surprise and she stood frozen for a moment but then allowed him to pull her closer. Tracing her lips with his tongue, seeking entrance, he plunged into her mouth when she opened to him. Moving his tongue against hers suggestively, he felt her body shudder.

Gripping the towel in one hand, he ended the kiss and looked into her dazed eyes. He felt a bit dazed himself, but he had to keep things under control at the moment, or he would make matters worse. With a feral grin, he yanked the towel away from her body, delighting in her scream of mortification. Turning, he didn't allow himself to look at her, but dropped the towel in the hallway as he walked away from her room, not looking back.

"Be in the living room in five minutes, Sarah, or I will come after you," he warned.

"Bastard!" she screamed, slamming her door.

He chuckled. "She says that so often," he muttered to himself, getting comfortable on the couch.

Watching the clock closely, Jareth heard Sarah tossing things in her room, slamming the closet door and drawers, and talking to herself angrily. Grinning, he watched as five minutes came and went, and listened as the sounds from Sarah's room feel silent.

"Sarah," he called out, infusing a warning into his voice.

There was no response. He waited one more minute; he could be generous. When she still didn't respond or come out, he stood and grinned. He had rather hoped she would defy him… it was so much more exciting that way.

Jareth walked down the hall, his boots making echoing footsteps as he went. He knocked on the door. "Sarah, you have missed your deadline."

"Leave me alone," she yelled. But he knew from watching her in the past that she didn't want him to leave her alone. Her defiance was a way to rouse further attempts at resolution. Before she ended up in his Labyrinth, that very night, her father had tried to talk to her, but given up when she had petulantly cried out, "There's nothing to talk about!"

When he walked away, she had pouted. "You really wanted to talk to me, didn't you? Practically broke down the door!" Contrary girl!

Well, Jareth wasn't her father, but he was her husband. It was time to start acting like it, even though Sarah didn't realize the truth as of yet. She would, soon enough. She might as well get used to the fact that he would not walk away without resolution.

The doors in the house were old and had no locks. Turning the handle, Jareth pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Sarah had dressed in black leggings, a white tank top and her laughable frog slippers. "Go away," she said. She was on her bed, her back against the wall, hugging a pillow.

"I warned you there would be consequences if you defied me," he said, his voice low as he approached the bed.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Stand up," he said, pointing at the floor in front of him. He had expected more of a fight, but she got up from the bed and stood defiantly close to him, her arms folded across her chest, looking up into his eyes.

"_What?"_ she demanded.

Swiftly, he encircled one wrist and held her fast. "Choose your punishment, Sarah," he said suggestively, "a kiss or a spanking."

"A what? You _pervert!_"

"Choose," he commanded, making sure he sounded bored by the prospect of either, "or I shall choose for you."

"I'm not a child," she protested hotly. "You can't just—"

Jareth sat down on the edge of her bed and quickly pulled her over his knees. He smacked her rear end five times in quick succession and then watched in amusement as she righted herself, cursing at him under her breath.

"That was uncalled for," she seethed at him, rubbing her bottom.

He shrugged. "I disagree," he said, reaching out to gently sit her down on the bed, pleased when she didn't resist. "I did give you the option of a kiss."

"Jareth, can't you understand that I don't want to kiss you? I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not in the habit of going around kissing married men. Maybe you're thinking that while you're here you'll have a little fun, but I'm pretty sure your queen wouldn't appreciate it."

"In time I will be completely upfront with her and confess everything, and she will understand," he said. "You need not feel any guilt, Sarah. And I can assure you that what I want from you is far more than 'a little fun.'"

Color rose in her cheeks. "So… what? You have an open marriage? That's disgusting. I don't want any part in it. When I get married, I want complete loyalty and fidelity, Jareth, and I would never—"

Impatiently, he put a finger over her lips. "Sarah… remember what I told you. Things are not always what they seem. I assure you that in time you will understand. _Trust me_."

She frowned and looked as if she were close to crying again. "In time, you'll _leave_, and I'll never see you again," she argued heatedly. "So what's the point in talking like this?"

"There is _every point_," he said, feeling frustrated. Knowing she was not going to bend tonight, he sighed. "This is doing no good. You're far too irrational. We'll talk again tomorrow. Do you have to work?"

"I'm not irrational!" She stared at him, suddenly looking confused. "I… no. I gave my shift to Maria, because she's going to be having her baby soon, and needs all the money she can earn now."

Softening, he reached out to touch her face. "So generous, and yet you can be so cruel. Goodnight, Sarah."

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah lay trembling beneath her covers. Jareth was trying to get closer to her; Lynne had been right about him after all. So… she wanted him, and he clearly wanted her, and normally that would have been great. Amazing, even. But he was married, and she couldn't get past that, no matter what he said. He had told her that nothing was as it seemed, and had asked her to trust him, but how could she?

Her bottom still stung from his spanking. Why wasn't she angrier about that? She had never been spanked… well, maybe when she was very little, by her mother or father, but… a guy? A surprising wave of heat traveled through her at the memory… He had merely swatted her smartly, five times. His hand hadn't wandered or lingered inappropriately, and yet… She swallowed hard. It was difficult to admit to herself, but it had turned her on. But then, this was Jareth. Everything he did turned her on.

She knew that as soon as she fell asleep, she would have those dreams again. She had never had such vivid, real dreams in her life. Every detail was etched on her memory, and certain details carried over from dream to dream, and in her waking hours, she remembered. Things that normally weren't remembered, like colors, and textures, and feelings… Oh goodness, did she remember the feelings. And in the dreams, she wore an engraved white gold ring that matched a larger engraved white gold that Jareth wore, and he almost always spoke in a foreign tongue.

The only thing was that in the dreams, she understood what he was saying, and when she woke up, she no longer did. The dreams also all took place Underground, for the room where they made love was clearly in a castle, with stone walls and floors, elaborate tapestries, rich colors of cerulean, emerald, ruby and garnet… it was a room fit for a king and queen.

Something else that was odd about the dreams was that she had a suspicion that Jareth was there too. Not just as a part of the dream, but _there_. As if he were dreaming _with_ her, or observing her dreams. The erotic way she felt whenever their skin met was further testimony that something was happening between them. If only he would tell her more about his marriage. Was it a marriage of convenience? Was he planning on ending it to marry her? Why hadn't he asked her to go Underground with him when he went back?

She paused, frowning at her dark ceiling. Did she want Jareth to ask her to go back to the Labyrinth with him?

The thought of Jareth going back without her filled her with an emptiness she couldn't bear. In such a short time, she had grown accustomed to having him around. She liked his company. His kisses and touches indicated, that rather than the relationship fizzling out if they advanced it to the next level as Sarah was used to, that it would become more spectacular. That in itself was something of a miracle for Sarah.

She felt her eyelids growing heavy and knew she would soon fall asleep. Giving in, she stopped trying to stay awake; she hadn't slept much last night and she probably wouldn't sleep much now, either. She was determined to pay more attention to the dreams tonight, and see if she could unravel the mystery of them, just a little.

Light from a gibbous moon a night or two away from being a full one filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the room. Sarah lay alone in the huge ornately carved bed, atop a golden bedspread. Where was Jareth? But she knew… because she was more aware this time… that Jareth hadn't fallen asleep yet. Settling herself more comfortably against the pillows, she waited patiently. It was an odd sensation, waiting for a dream to start when one was in the dream.

Suddenly, he stepped out of the shadows, his hair nearly glowing. The intensity of his eyes bore into her and she squirmed, feeling self-conscious in her emerald green gown.

"You're here," she said, her voice sounding odd to her own ears.

He nodded once, moving closer to the bed, his intent clear. He wore a long silver robe, loosely tied. The fact that he wore nothing underneath it did not escape her attention. "Yes. You understand what this is."

"Yes," she whispered. "I didn't before, but… now I do. It's still wrong, Jareth, even in my dreams. I can't…"

"Shh," he soothed, running a hand from her ankle to her hip. "You are so beautiful, _mo chridhe_."

"Jareth…"

"No more," he said firmly. "You resist me in waking hours; you shan't do it here, too. This is a dream, Sarah, and there's nothing wrong with dreams. No guilt can be placed at your feet for what you do in your own mind, when you're asleep."

He climbed onto the bed with her then, half covering her body with his own, and kissed her soundly on the lips, his goatee tickling her chin. Sensations so powerful and heady swam through Sarah's blood, taking away all rational thought and resistance. His hands were everywhere and she came alive under his ministrations, pulling at his robe in desperation as he yanked her gown over her head.

The feelings were so intense she was afraid she would wake up.

Jareth froze, as though sensing her train of thought. "Don't think about waking, Sarah, or this will end," he warned. "Think of me… only of me…"

She tried valiantly to stay within the dream. Jareth buried his face in the crook of her neck, murmuring. _"Chan iarrainn càil ach faighinn gu bràch Do ghaol 's do ghràidh 's do chàirdeas,"_ he said, his voice slurred as though drunk on her love.

"You have it," she told him, having understood every word.

He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes bright. "Promise me, Sarah, promise me forever."

"How can I…"

Shaking his head, he whispered, "Don't question it, just promise."

"I promise," she agreed, closing her eyes. She would have agreed to anything, with his warm, naked skin sliding against hers, poised to join with her as one. Once again however, she wondered how this was even possible…

Opening her eyes, she found herself in her own bed at home, alone and unfulfilled. Sitting up, she listened carefully to the silence of the house, and from the next room she heard a loud groan and a very frustrated, "Sar-ah!"

Her heart racing, she fell back against the pillow. So it was true; their dreams were in tandem. Or rather, Jareth was able to invade her dreams. Either way, he was an active participant, and not a product of her imagination. If she felt the things she felt in the dreams, then it stood to reason that he did, as well. What was it he had said? The meaning had been clear to her just a moment ago.

"_Chan iarrainn càil ach faighinn gu bràch Do ghaol 's do ghràidh 's do chàirdeas." _

Sarah sat up again. He had said, "I'd wish nothing but to get forever your love, affection and friendship."

And she had given it to him. What had she done? What promise had she made, freely, in the dream? Was it binding? Did he plan to steal her away Underground with him when he was enough recovered to go back? What of his wife? Wife… in the dreams, _she_ was the one who wore his ring.

What did that mean? Was it an indication that she would eventually marry Jareth? How could she, when he already had a wife? Was polygamy allowed Underground? There was no way she would submit to being one of many, or even just two, wives. She had her pride.

Confused and wired, Sarah turned on a light and picked up a book. She wasn't sure she wanted to dream any more tonight…


	9. Chapter 9

Jareth stood looking into the mirror. His shoulder was healing much more quickly than he had originally estimated. He might very well be able to return Underground in a week or less. It was no longer painful, though it was still stiff. Holding out a hand, he almost managed to form a crystal. Time was short, and last night, Sarah had awakened from the dream at a most inopportune moment. As a result, he had been unable to sleep as well.

When he emerged, he found Sarah dressed and in the kitchen. He leaned against the door jamb, watching her intently. "That wasn't very nice of you last night," he said, referring directly to their shared dream now that he knew she was fully aware of it.

She blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I… How is that possible? How can we share the same dreams?"

Jareth moved into the kitchen and turned the kettle on for tea. Sighing, he sat down facing her. "You aren't ready to hear why," he explained, feeling bad for her as she frowned at him. "I will tell you soon, however, and I dearly hope that you will understand."

"Understand what?" she asked in obvious frustration.

Changing the subject, he said, "What are we going to do today?"

Sarah looked as though she wanted to argue with him further, but thought better of it. "Is there anything you want to do, specifically?" she asked. "I thought we could just sort of hang out here today… since I was gone all day yesterday."

"I would like nothing more," he said sincerely.

They fixed vegetable omelets for breakfast and then decided to go for a long walk. Sarah packed a large bag with homemade trail mix, cheese, crackers, apples, and bottled water in case they were gone past lunchtime, as well as two large towels, which Jareth wondered at but didn't ask her about. She disappeared into her room and came out in ragged blue jeans, hiking boots, a T-shirt and a jacket.

There was something different in her demeanor, as if she had come to some sort of resolve or decision. Jareth sensed that she was more relaxed around him again, for which he was grateful. He hoped it would last, whatever the reason.

Jareth let Sarah do most of the talking. He got the sense that she was storing up courage for something, and he was reluctant to break her mood lest she change her mind. They were at a precarious place; soon he would be able to return to the Underground, and if she was not willing to accompany him, he was not sure what the Labyrinth would do. Although he was its master, it could be infuriatingly stubborn when it wanted something.

Sarah slowed down, then quit walking. Facing him, she looked up into his eyes. "Jareth, I… I want you to know that I'm really glad that I got to see you again," she said softly, reaching out to link her fingers through his. "I know you're getting better pretty quickly, and that means that soon you'll be able to fly. There won't be any reason for you to stay here, then."

"Sarah," he cut in, wanting to say something but unsure as to what.

She squeezed his hands. "Please, just let me get this out while I can," she whispered, her voice so quiet he barely heard her. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and remembering, and I… if I had been older at the time, I might have found a way to do things a bit differently, in the end. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

He nodded, glancing at her surreptitiously. "I believe I do, but Precious," he began, only to have her interrupt him again.

"I'm not finished," she said, laughing a little at herself. "Listen to me, bossing you around. You're a king, and I'm… what am I? Nothing. It's amazing that you don't just knock me on my butt right now."

Jareth felt the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement at her words. Oh, he would love to knock her on her posterior, but not for the reasons she presumed. He waited, not speaking, for fear of being shushed yet again.

"I just… I want you to know that if things were different, if you weren't married, for example… then I would be willing to rethink your offer now, if it was still available… if you still felt that way," she said, and he heard the cringe in her tone. "Not that I'm assuming you do. I rejected you; you have every right to hate… I can't believe I'm even saying this to you… You're married! For all I know you have not just a wife but a slew of kids back at your castle. Anyway, I just wanted you to know what I was thinking and how I feel… for what it's worth."

He stopped, forcing her to stop as well. "Sarah, if you would allow me to—"

"No. No explanations, no platitudes, okay?" She looked up at him, radiant and sad in the autumn sunlight. "I said my piece and I don't expect for you to say anything in return. In fact… I want to ask that you don't. Please. There's nothing you can say that will change the facts, even if things aren't always what they seem."

Frustrated but again bound by her pointed request, he nodded. She misread his melancholy, because she reached up and touched his face and said, "Don't feel bad, Jareth. At least I know now why no other man could ever make me happy. None of them were you."

She turned and continued walking, continuing to hold his hand. "There's a lake up here," she told him. "I know it's not exactly a hot day, but it's not cold, either. The sun's out, at least. Let's go for a swim."

"A swim?" he asked, wondering if she had lost her mind.

She laughed, pulling him along. "Come on. It'll be good exercise for your shoulder. Besides, I haven't been swimming since the beginning of summer."

A vast blue lake came into view, seemingly secluded. Surrounded by trees that were just beginning to change their green leaves for red, gold and amber ones, it was picturesque. Though the surrounding area was grassy and full of vegetation, there was a narrow strip of sand running all along the water's edge. Jareth's attention from the lake was diverted, however, when he turned to see Sarah stripping out of her clothing. She apparently had planned this, for under her clothes she wore a sexy black bikini.

"Well," she said in an accent that badly mocked his. "Undress."

Jareth felt his jaw drop watching Sarah shimmy out of her jeans, but she soon disappeared into the water. He snapped his mouth shut and pulled off his shirt, then undid his shoes, stepping out of them and yanking off his socks. He unbuttoned his jeans and took them off, and looked at Sarah in the water to find her staring at him.

"Dude," she said with a faux surfer accent. "You need to get some rays."

With a grin, he took a running start into the water, splashing as he headed toward her. She squealed and swam away and he followed, trying to get close enough to touch all that skin he'd just seen.

"Is there no one else that uses this lake, then?" he asked when she stopped, treading water in front of him.

She shook her head. "This is private property. My neighbor, Mrs. Jacobs, owns it all. She lets me use the lake whenever I want because I watch her cats for her when she goes to Denver to visit her grandchildren."

"So we are alone here," he stated, watching her intently.

Sarah nodded. "Yes… completely," she said. "Why? Are you afraid of someone seeing you in your skivvies?"

Laughing, he wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her against him. Skin to skin, under the water, he felt his heart skip a beat, and the familiar intense _awareness _of her kicked into high gear. Sarah gasped, and Jareth feared that she might try to break away. So he was very surprised when she wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles in back. The fact that they were out in the lake not touching bottom necessitated that he continue treading water so they would stay afloat, but the movement was enhancing the feel of Sarah pressed so intimately against him.

He looked into her eyes, wondering if this were real or just a very intense dream. "Sarah, I…" he trailed off at her expression. She obviously thought she knew what he was going to say, and didn't want to hear it. So intent on keeping him silent was she that she quickly covered his mouth with her own.

Jareth tightened his grip on her, as though she might suddenly disappear. He ran one hand along her leg, up her thigh, and around to her rear end, cupping her. She shivered against him and he knew it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She pulled back to look at him and her eyes darkened to black moss. Leaning in, she kissed his neck and then lightly bit his earlobe. Jareth thrust into her lightly and heard her moan.

Unable to keep them afloat, he reluctantly released her and looked at her questioningly. He wanted her so desperately but he didn't want to pressure her in any way. Again, he needn't have worried. "I have big towels in the bag, on shore," she told him, and her intent was clear. He knew she hadn't brought them merely so they could dry off after their swim.

Keeping hold of her hand, he nodded assent and they headed for the sand bank.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah's heart was hammering in her chest. She didn't allow herself to think, just kept her eyes on the lakeshore, watching it grow closer and closer. When she felt her feet touch, it was only for a moment, because she felt herself swept up into Jareth's arms. Even though his shoulder was healing, he still shouldn't have been able to carry her so effortlessly. He must be very strong, she thought vaguely.

He set her down and she watched him as he reached into her bag, wordlessly spreading the beach towels upon the ground, side by side and slightly overlapping. His sodden boxer-briefs clung to his body, riding low. The muscles rippled beneath his skin; for someone so slender, his body was obviously sinewy and strong. She stood there, anxious and antsy to feel him against her again.

When he straightened, he gave her that look again, as though asking if she was sure. In answer, she stepped closer to him and put her arms around his waist, her hands caressing his bare back. "Jareth… you don't have to say it back, but I want you to know that… I love you."

She lifted her face to his to see his reaction and was startled by the emotion she saw there. It gave her the feeling that he had been waiting a very long time to hear her say those words. He opened his mouth to speak and she panicked, kissing him again. It was clear that he was attempting to tell her something, and she was afraid that it would ruin the moment.

Sarah felt the moment he came undone, right there in her arms, under the trees. Something inside him snapped, and he brought them both down onto the towel, to their knees. "Sarah, you must be sure… You… You have no idea how long it's been for me," he said, his voice husky with need.

She frowned. He was married and yet it had been a long time since he had made love? Her mind wanted to pursue it but her body was telling her to leave it for later or she might change her mind. Nodding, she said, "I'm sure, Jareth." There was no need for him to know ahead of time that he was her first.

He carefully lowered her, cradling her head. His eyes roved her body hungrily, making her feel both desirable and self-conscious. When his hand touched her stomach, she nearly jumped; the reaction she had to him was incomparable to anything she had ever felt before.

Lying beside her, he draped one leg over both of hers, his finger slipping under the strap of her bikini top and trailing down to outline the edge of it. Moving underneath, he traced the under side of it and then slipped his fingers inside. Sarah writhed, bringing one leg up to tangle with his. She heard him groan and shift so that he was further on top of her.

Sarah arched into him and he bit her shoulder lightly, his hand pushing her top out of he way as his mouth moved down to latch on to her. Crying out softly, she pushed her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue. His tongue was doing wickedly wonderful things to her, but she wanted his mouth on hers. Tugging at his hair seemed to relay the message well enough, for he slid himself up her body to cover her mouth with his. She shifted beneath him, moving her left leg up and wrapping it around him, regaining the close contact they had shared in the water.

His shorts were sodden and heavy. Sarah frowned, reaching down to tug at the waistband. Jareth lifted himself up on one elbow as she pushed them down his body. She felt the heat flare into her face as she stared at him, then moved her eyes guiltily back to his face.

"Jareth… you're so beautiful," she whispered. "I wish…"

"No wishes," he said harshly, taking her mouth again. _"Chan e smuaintean air mhànran 'S a' Cheòlraidh gun àird oirr', A dh'iarrainn an tràth seo Gu d'àilleachd a sheinn." _

His hands pushed at the fabric of her bikini top until she was free of it, then he untied the bottoms and pushed them out of the way, hurrying to resume their position. Sarah couldn't get enough of him, and shoved aside sinking thoughts that she'd better enjoy this while she could, because he would be gone sooner than she knew. _"Sarah… mo chridhe, mo chomraich,"_ he whispered into her ear. "My heart… my sanctuary," he repeated in English.

As good as their shared dreams had been, this was so much better. The reality was far more sensational and satisfying. Sarah clung to Jareth, keeping them locked together until they both started shivering. She sighed when she felt him roll off her, and fought back tears. Seconds later though, he turned back to her and draped one arm and leg over her body.

"Sarah," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Was I… that is to say, have you never before… I was your first?" he asked, sounding incredulous.

She was quiet for a long time, deciding how much to say. Should she explain? Words failed her, with all the emotion she was feeling. Finally, she settled for true and to the point. "Yes."

"I'm honored," he replied quietly, sounding as if he truly meant it. His lips on her shoulder sent a tremor through her body.

Sarah shivered again as Jareth lazily let his eyes wander over her, suddenly self-conscious. What was she thinking? He was married. Had she lost all of her senses completely? She had pushed the thought of him belonging to someone else as impossible, forging ahead with what she most wanted, but now… Now she felt horrible.

When Jareth looked back into her eyes, however, all she could think about was how much she loved him and wanted to be with him. She shivered again, knowing that he would be leaving her soon and likely never return.

"Cold, my love?" he asked.

Too close to tears, she merely nodded. He gave her a questioning look but then rolled away and stood up as she sat up and used one of the towels to finish drying off and cover herself.

Keeping his back to her, Jareth pulled on his jeans and shirt and then handed her clothes to her. He smiled at her, looking immensely pleased with the situation. His expression changed, though, when he noticed hers. She had hastily put on her shorts and was pulling on her shirt, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Sarah, what is it? You don't regret this, do you?" he asked, squatting down to look into her eyes.

She stared at him. How could he possibly think that? "Of course not," she said quickly, standing up and facing him. "I was just thinking about the fact that you're going to be going home soon, and wondering if I'll ever see you again."

"I see," he said, looking uneasy. "Sarah…"

"Don't!" she said firmly. "Please just don't say anything."

She kept forestalling him at every turn. When she used such specific language, he was bound to obey her. If she would only let him speak! Jareth's jaw hardened and he nodded, moving away from her and tying his shoe. "As my lady commands," he said mockingly.

Frowning, Sarah realized he was angry with her. She moved to touch him, but he shied away from her hand. Standing, he started back on the trail that had led them here. Quickly pulling on her own shoes, Sarah grabbed the bag and towels and ran after him.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Jareth walked as quickly as he could, trying to calm down. She had taken him to such heights and then plunged him so low, all within minutes. She had told him she loved him but stopped him from saying it back. It was as though she was afraid of what he had to say. He didn't know, despite all that had just occurred, if she was ready to hear the truth after all. Was everything for naught, then? Was the Labyrinth paying attention to what a difficult queen it had selected for him? Even so, he knew that he wanted no other. He ached to turn around and take her again, right against the nearest tree. She was his wife! She belonged to him, and he belonged to her. Years he had waited for her, remained faithful to her, and she didn't want to hear him say he loved her.

Seething, he kept moving, ignoring her shouts for him to wait. After a few minutes, she stopped calling for him to stop. He nearly did anyway. He was tempted to wait for her, gag her, and then tell her loved her and that they were already wed. But anger and resentment – and a healthy dose of building sexual frustration, for once with Sarah after all this time was not nearly enough – got the better of him and he kept walking.

He reached the house and knew she would be there soon, so he shook his head and kept walking, heading down her long driveway and to the road. He was muttering to himself, harsh angry words, in Gaelic. He realized that he hadn't done that in ages. Now, in Sarah's company for a matter of a few weeks, he had done it on a nearly daily basis for one reason or another.

Stopping, Jareth looked back. Sarah's little house was but a pinpoint now, and he had started to run out of steam. Where was he going? What did he plan to do, stay in a motel? With what money? He didn't even have money for a meal, and they had not touched their lunch basket. Cursing richly, he stopped walking. He had nowhere to go, no one to go to. He didn't even belong in this world, had no form of identification… nothing. Sarah was all he had.

He knew that Sarah would be beside herself with worry and self-recrimination. Sighing, he kicked at a rock in the roadside. He didn't want to face her again so soon. He was still angry and frustrated with her. Nevertheless, he turned and started heading back. Perhaps they could salvage the evening and spend it together. He wanted to be with her tonight, all night.

A blue pick-up truck passed him on the road, and Jareth realized it looked familiar to him. Frowning, he tried to remember whose truck it was. Not Lacey's; hers was old, beat-up and white. No… he took a deep breath in consternation as he watched the vehicle weaving across the road. It was Jake's truck, and he was driving erratically, straight toward Sarah's place.

Suddenly filled with guilt, Jareth broke into a run.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah hurried into the house, wondering why Jareth hadn't turn on any lights. "Jareth?" she called, flipping on the living room wall switch. She set down the bag and moved through the house, calling his name. He wasn't in the bathroom or his bedroom. Sherlock meowed at her in an annoyed fashion, staring at her with bleary eyes from the corner of the couch.

Jareth wasn't here… where had he gone? He was really angry with her, angry enough to keep walking in order to avoid her. She supposed she deserved it. She hadn't let him speak on their trek unless it was about inconsequential things. Every time his tone turned serious, she had made him stop talking. He had clearly wanted to say something important, but she had been so paranoid that it was going to spoil her plans for the day.

She sighed. What if what he had to say would have added to the day? What if it was something good, like he couldn't live without her and insisted on taking her back Underground? What if he wanted her with him forever? Yes, he was married, but he didn't seem to view that as an impediment. She certainly did. But the way he acted every time it was mentioned was odd. It was almost as if…

In a flash, his words came back to her, the words he'd said that night he cooked for her. She had asked him if his wife would mind him spending so much time with another woman, or something to that effect. He had told her not to worry, and then he had said, _"I have her eating out of my hand"_ as he had fed her a bit of bread, his eyes shining with mischief.

"No," she said aloud, her head thudding. "It can't be that simple… He would have told me, damn it!" she slapped a hand against her thigh in frustration. No, she was acting crazy now. Best to not get her hopes up too high. It made no sense, anyway. There had never been a marriage ceremony, and she hadn't seen him in years. No… when he said he had a wife, he meant someone other than her. Jealousy, stronger and brighter than before, flared brightly within her. Maybe he didn't love his wife. She'd never even asked him that. What if it was an arranged marriage? She had to find him.

Stepping back outside, Sarah checked the barn, but he wasn't there, either. When she came out again, a truck was pulling up. "Oh, crap," she muttered. This was the last thing she needed…

Jake got out of the cab and nearly fell on the ground. "Sarah," he muttered. "You don't know what you're doing, you're gonna regret cheating on me—"

"Shut up, Jake," she said loudly. "I didn't cheat on you; we aren't together anymore. How many times do I have to tell you it's over? You'd better just get out of here before Jareth comes out and kicks your ass."

He sneered at her. "I may have had a few drinks tonight, Sarah, but I saw your loser boyfriend walking down the road. You sure do know how to drive the men away, don't you? You should be grateful I didn't run him over."

"Just go home, Jake, sleep it off," she suggested, holding her temper. "I tried to tell you several times that I didn't feel the same way about you as you felt about me. That's not my fault, Jake."

"Like hell," he said sarcastically, moving toward her. "You hardly even let me touch you! Have you let _him_ touch you, Sarah? Have you let that skinny-ass rock-and-roll freak into your bed?"

She pushed at him. "Stop it, Jake, I'm warning you!"

Jake laughed at her 'warning'. Shoving her up against the truck, he put his hands all over her as she tried to push him away. "No bra, Sarah? Since when do you go around without your underwear, you little—"

Sarah gasped as Jake's eyes grew wide as he was grabbed from behind and pulled away from her. Jareth, out of breath, his skin gleaming with sweat, looked outraged. He repeatedly punched Jake as he staggered drunkenly around, ineffectively holding his hands up in front of his face and taking weak swings at Jareth.

"Keep your filthy mortal hands off of my _wife_, you pathetic excuse for a man!" Jareth roared as Jake cowered on the ground.

Frozen in place, Sarah stared at Jareth, ignoring Jake as he scrambled to his feet and frantically crawled into his truck, fumbling to get the key to turn in the ignition.

Jareth looked a bit stunned, as though he was surprised at his own outburst. "Are you hurt?" he asked, still breathing heavily.

"Your… _wife_?" she repeated incredulously.

He straightened. "Yes," he said, almost defensively. "I made every attempt to tell you this afternoon, but you kept shushing me."

Jake finally got his truck in gear and took off, but Sarah barely noticed. "This afternoon… what about all the other days when you had a chance, Jareth? What about the very first day you were capable of speech?"

He frowned and started to open his mouth to speak, but she shook her head. "Too late," she told him, shaking with anger. "I can't even believe I fell for you! You're nothing but a deceitful liar who only—"

"Careful, Sarah," he warned.

She backed away from him, moving toward her Jeep. "I _should_ have been more careful around you; that's for sure. How can I possibly be your wife? This is some kind of trick, or elaborate plot for revenge, or…" She paused. Even as she spoke, she knew that neither of those accusations was true. The way he had held her today, the things he had said, the way he had said them… they had all rung true. She was still very angry, however, and not ready to let go of her feelings of betrayal and shock.

Turning her back on him, she started to get in the driver's side door but felt his hands on her, spinning her around to face him. "You can ask all the questions you want to. You can rant and rail at me and call me every name in the book. As my queen, that is your prerogative," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You can scream and curse and do whatever else makes you feel better, but you will not run away from me this time, Sarah."

Sarah stared at Jareth. His hair was sticking up wilder than usual and his eyes were brilliant with anger and pleading. He swallowed hard, and despite her anger and hurt, she wanted to kiss his Adam's apple and forget the last ten minutes had even happened. There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he wanted her to defy him again. She decided against it; he was much angrier now than he was last night.

When she didn't respond right away, he misunderstood. "Sarah, get into the house immediately."

She stuck out her chin and crossed her arms, but moved past him to go inside. He followed her closely, as though expecting her to try to escape. Once they were both in, he locked and bolted the door, as if Jake might return and stir things up again. Sarah knew better. Jake was a coward at heart, and he wouldn't be back.

"How?" she said, rounding on him. She had to go on the offensive before he put her on the defensive. "How is this possible?"

"Sit down."

"Answer my question, Jareth," she demanded.

He advanced on her, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her forcibly onto the couch. "I. Said. Sit. Down," he said, leaning over her menacingly. Despite herself, Sarah felt a thrill shoot through her.

Jareth seemed satisfied. He backed off, sitting on the other end of the sofa. "Now. You have asked me how it is possible that you are my wife and the Goblin Queen. If you will kindly agree to keep your mouth shut until I'm finished, I will answer that and any other questions you have."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others. The next section requires some… tweaking. I hope to have time to work on it tomorrow.

SG

And now, on with the story…

Jareth watched as Sarah nodded slowly. "Okay," she said quietly, looking pensive. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but she was looking very defensive sitting there, as if the trust they had built up had been shattered with his careless words.

Sighing in relief and hoping that maybe he would manage to salvage the situation after all, Jareth nodded. "When you defeated the Labyrinth, as no other had done since… well, for a very long time, it saw fit to claim you as its own. By the time you had reached the castle, I had been notified that I was duty-bound to convince you to stay there. I made every attempt, as you will recall, but you were intent on completing your quest. When you said the lines from the book, I knew that all was lost, at least for then. Because you were so young, the Labyrinth sent you back. After all," he paused, smiling a little, "fair was fair. However, it was made clear to me in no uncertain terms, that you were as good as already my wife, the appointed Goblin Queen, and that one day I would be sent to retrieve you."

Sarah was staring at him in utter shock and bewilderment, and he could see a thousand questions behind her intelligent green eyes. To her credit, though, she remained silent. Whether it was out of respect for his request or because she was merely rendered momentarily speechless, he wasn't sure.

"I had no intention of seeking you out so soon," he went on, trying to word things logically, answering her unasked questions. "I truly was here on a calling. I knew that you lived in this state, but I had not sought you out so thoroughly as to know you lived here, in this town. I… I had desired to do so but I wanted to give you as much time here as I could. The Labyrinth, however, clearly saw an opportunity when I was called here by a wisher." Jareth paused again, taking a deep breath as he worked out what he would say next. "The amazing coincidence of it all played well into the Labyrinth's plans. I don't think it could have plotted for me to be shot down here and I doubt it would have taken the chance of its king being killed. Therefore, I believe that it merely took advantage of circumstances. You are now old enough to take on the role of Queen, so the Labyrinth has decided to… reclaim you."

Sarah frowned, opening and then closing her mouth uncertainly. Jareth decided it was time to let her start voicing her questions, so he said, "You wish to say something?"

She nodded but didn't speak for a long time. After what seemed like forever, she finally asked, "What if I don't want to be the Goblin Queen?"

A sharp pain manifested itself somewhere in the vicinity of Jareth's heart but he managed to hide his reaction in time. "If you refuse to return Underground," he said slowly, "I believe that the Labyrinth will prevent me from doing so as well, until you agree. Unfortunately, it's not a choice."

She bristled. "What will happen to you if you can't go back?" she asked frankly, staring at him.

"Eventually, I will… die," he replied honestly, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. "Unless the Labyrinth decides that it will find another queen. But it will exhaust all other avenues first. Once you are chosen, Sarah, you are… trapped. I do not know how else to explain it."

"Why aren't you allowed to choose your own queen?" she asked next.

Jareth hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "I could have, at one point. But I never found anyone who appealed to me so much that I wanted her by my side for the rest of all time. I felt… an affinity for you… even though you were far too young at the time. The Labyrinth sensed that and it must have figured that was all that was needed. It… forced my hand, so to speak."

Sarah seemed to take this in, but didn't say anything. She merely watched him, waiting for him to proceed. He felt that perhaps she was waiting for him to elaborate on what he had just said.

"Please understand… Being the Goblin King has been a very… lonely existence," he began, deciding to tell both truths and deal with the consequences, whatever they were. "Though you were so young, I was fascinated by you… attracted to your imagination and fire. The Labyrinth is in tune to my feelings and it would have been aware of my attraction for you. However, part of its decision – a huge part – is that you bested it. Though it makes the choice as to who will rule it, the chosen must be someone it can respect and obey, to a degree."

Sarah had listened very closely to his answer, and she was not as upset as he had expected her to be, which was a very good sign. It indicated, or at least he hoped so, that she wasn't going to blame him for this situation. "You said I was the first to defeat it in a very long time," she replied, picking at her jeans. "You were the last person to beat it, weren't you?"

He nodded, pleased that she had come to the conclusion on her own. "Yes," he said. "I'm not from this world. I was seventeen at the time I began to rule. Unlike you, who believed that the goblins were fictional, part of a story, I knew they were real and existed. I wished my brother away to the goblins, and they took him. The Goblin King at that time was actually a goblin himself, and he was very tired of ruling. When I made it through the Labyrinth in the allotted time, it replaced him as king… with me. My brother was sent back to my parents, and they as well as my five other siblings, forgot that I existed." Though it had taken place so very long ago, Jareth had never told the story to anyone. He found telling it to Sarah to be extremely difficult, for a myriad of reasons.

The weight of it was not lost on her. She exhaled loudly. "I'm so sorry," she replied. "I never knew… Do you still miss them?"

Looking down, he nodded. "Despite the fact that at the time I was eager to escape them, I soon realized that I had taken having a family for granted. I ought not to have chosen to have them forget me."

She stared at him. "You… _chose_ that?"

Cringing at her tone, he bowed his head. "Yes. I resented the fact that as the oldest, I was always called upon to care for the others. I hated that my parents showered attention on them because they were all much younger than I. I… I was a spoiled brat, you see, and I wanted nothing more than to lash out at them. Because nothing I did worked enough to gain their attention, I agreed to let them forget me."

"Oh my god," she whispered.

Jareth looked up at her, wondering if his confession of the total lack of regard for his family, his self-centered attitude, would alter her perception of him. "Though I wish with all my heart that I could, I cannot change what I did; I cannot take it back," he said slowly. "There is a way to reverse the damage, but even if it occurs, they will know what I did. If ever I am able to see them again and have them recognize me, I will have much explaining to do… as well as apologizing."

She relaxed a bit. "So you regret what you did."

"Very much so," he replied, exhaling forcefully. This conversation was taking a turn he had not expected.

She nodded. "And… this situation… you said there's no choice. Everything hinges on what I choose now, doesn't it?"

Jareth nodded, watching her slowly. "Yes," he replied. "I'm sorry. I fear that if you refuse to return with me, the Labyrinth will bring you back anyway, with or without me. If you absolutely don't want to be with me, I will understand. I… I have been alone so long. No family, no wife. If you don't want me, then I would rather remain here and wait out my days."

Sarah held up a hand and took a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at Jareth and suddenly she knew everything. "It's _me_," she realized. "The… 'certain powers'. I have the power to reverse the spell and reunite you with your family. Am I right?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Why me?" she asked breathlessly. "You gave me that power even before I went Underground… even before the Labyrinth chose me… I don't understand. Why?"

"I recognized myself in you, but I knew that you would never renounce your family as I did mine. I was given the ability to bestow the power to reverse the spell on but one person. It was… a gamble. It was a huge gamble, but it was my only chance."

"A gamble." She stared at him. "The book. You sent the book so that I'd know about the goblins… so I'd know the story and the words and… But it says that you gave me certain powers _before_ I ever even wished Toby away."

"As I said, I recognized myself in you," he said apologetically. "I was fairly confident you would wish him away." At Sarah's pained wince, he quickly added, "But I was also certain that you would make every attempt to win him back, and you did. You were… _are_… far more noble than I was, Sarah. You could have had your dreams, and yet you gave them up to return your baby brother to your parents."

Her voice shaky, she said, "That was one _hell _of a gamble, Goblin King."

"You did not disappoint me, Goblin Queen," he replied softly.

She gave him a small smile, and hope flared in him like a match struck in a dark oubliette. He did not allow the tiny flame to grow, however; he was not nearly certain enough about her feelings yet. She was quiet for a very long moment before asking, "What would have happened to Toby if… I had lost?"

"I would have sent him back anyway, because you didn't truly want him gone," he replied with a small shrug. "You had wished him away, though, so I was duty bound to take him, and duty bound to have you run the Labyrinth."

"And… those who are wished away because a parent or sibling _means_ it? What happens to those children?" she continued, her eyes worried.

"They are not turned into goblins, as you surmised," he said sincerely. "I never corrected you on that, but it's not even possible. There are those in the Underground, like Above, who are unable to have children. Adoption is a viable alternative. Better that a child is given a home where they are loved Underground, then to stay in abusive or loveless homes here," he said reasonably.

Sarah looked immensely relieved. "Do you _like_ children?" she asked suddenly.

"Very much," he said softly. "Your brother was quite an agreeable little chap. I hope one day to have a family of my own. Though the Goblin Kingdom isn't the most enviable in the kingdoms of the Underground, it is something that I am proud of. I should like, very much, to pass it on to an heir."

"It's been over ten years since I was there," Sarah said, shifting on the couch. Placing on leg underneath her, she looked down at her hands. "You're saying that… you've been married to an absentee wife for that long?"

Jareth nodded slowly. "I have, yes."

"What about… I mean, have you… You can't have…" she stammered, looking acutely uncomfortable.

"I've been utterly faithful to you," he stated stiffly, offended that she would think otherwise.

Staring at him, she shook her head. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I am married… and bonded to… and _in love _with _you_," he replied indignantly. Why was it not obvious to her? Did she think him to be some kind of a philandering sod?

Sarah blinked. "Sorry," she replied contritely. "I wasn't trying to imply that… wait. Two questions. One… what do you mean by 'bonded'?"

"Yes," he sighed, rubbing his eyes and suddenly feeling very tired. "It is quite common Underground. Bonding can be mutual or one-sided. Because the Labyrinth saw fit to tie us together, we are, at least partially, bonded."

"Why only partially?"

He watched her intently. "The answer to that may very well be connected to your second question, so please ask it now."

"Okay," she agreed, and took a deep breath. "I know you said, earlier today, that you love me… And I know what the book said. But… ten years, Jareth. Ten years when you weren't even sure how I felt? When you couldn't even bring yourself to come here again?"

"Sarah, I have loved you from the moment I saw you in the park," he said truthfully. "I have held onto the hope that you might be able to love me. My hope grew considerably stronger today not only because of what transpired between us but because you told me you loved me. Do you really, Sarah? Do you really love me?"

She nodded, looking serious but still rather worried. "I do, yes. I think I always have. I've never been able to fall in love, and yet… in the space of what… a week… I've fallen so in love with you that I… I can't imagine life without you," she said, her voice implying the wonder she felt as she spoke the words.

"You do not have to imagine it or experience it, if you do not want to, Sarah," he said softly, hearing the raw hope in his own voice, knowing she heard it too.

Tears glistened in her eyes. "I still have questions," she said, a warning clear in her voice: don't get too hopeful yet.

Feeling deflated and increasingly tired, he nodded. "Go on."

"How long do you live?" she asked. "What… exactly… are you?"

Jareth took a deep breath. "My kind has the potential to live for thousands of years… unless murdered. We don't get ill, and we age very, very slowly. We are not classified by your world, not even in folklore. I'm from a race of elves unheard of here. We are not unlike the Faerie folk of your stories but there are differences as well."

She frowned, looking as though she were fighting tears. "Jareth, if you live for so long and age so slowly, you'd be in for a rude awakening in twenty years or so. Humans age relatively quickly. We grow old, get weak, sick and die. I couldn't bear to get all wrinkled and gray while you stay looking like this. I can't."

It was the first indication that she was giving serious thought to accepting him. Holding in his elation in view of her emotional state, he shook his head. "Sarah, the Underground is a place of… infinite magic and is always in a state of flux, as are its inhabitants. As it selected you to be the Goblin Queen, it will see to it that you become… 'one of us forever', as Toby would have had he stayed." He watched her closely, seeing the comprehension in her eyes. "You would become just like me, Sarah."

Tears fell down her face as she stared at him. "As Toby would have," she repeated, "and which now, he won't. He'll grow old and die, and so will my dad and step-mom. How can I agree to a life that leaves them behind to grow old and die, while I go on without them? How would that be any different than what you did?"

He winced at her words, while at the same time charmed by her purity of heart. "Sarah… You are the Goblin Queen. If you want your family with you Underground, all you have to do is say the word and it will be so."

"They can come with me?" she said, a slight smile on her face. "I could just… show up at their house, tell them I'm the Goblin Queen, and that they're going to come and live with me and my Goblin King husband in a castle in the Underground?" She laughed, shaking her head. "They'll think I'm insane!"

"Not after you transport them magically to said castle, Sarah," he said gently.

Jareth was worried. She was still holding back for some reason, and he had no idea how to find out why. As he was learning with Sarah, all he had to do was wait quietly until she was ready. "Jareth… how long do you have before you're healed enough to fly?"

"A few days, no more," he told her. "Already I feel the magic returning. It's not strong yet, but it _is _growing stronger. The more I receive, the faster I will heal."

She nodded. "But… if I refuse, the Labyrinth might choose to leave you here. It might not allow you through the portal. Unless you… take me against my will, I'm guessing."

Jareth swallowed over the lump in his throat. Was she preparing to refuse him? If she did, he would take whatever time he had with her, and cherish it. Nodding resolutely, he gave her a smile. "That's correct, Sarah," he said. "However, I would never take you against your will. I shall remain here for as long as I live, and I will be with you, if you'll have me. I love you far too much to ensnare you and make you do something you don't want to do. It's not…" he smiled sadly, "… _fair_. I do understand that it must be maddening to be left without a choice."

Sarah took a shaky breath and moved from her corner of the couch, scooting closer to him on her knees. Taking his face into her hands, she gave him a passionate kiss. He returned the kiss, pulling her into his lap. If this was what made her happy, then he was happy.

"Thank you," she said as she broke the kiss, breathless. "I love you."

"And I love you, Sarah," he said bemusedly. "Why are you thanking me?"

"For giving me the choice," she replied simply, stroking his face with her fingers. "I rather like it when you're demanding and forceful at times, but this was one instance where if you'd said, 'Sorry, too bad, Sarah,' I would've… I don't know, but I wouldn't have been very happy with you. But you're willing to give up everything for me, Jareth, and because you're willing to, I won't let you."

Jareth's head was spinning. "Love, you're talking in riddles," he said, vaguely aware that she was in the process of undressing him. "Please, tell me what you're saying."

Sarah glanced up at him but was far more interested in unbuttoning his pants. She leaned down and kissed his bad shoulder, then kissed her way up to his neck, and then his face. "You're adorable when you're obtuse," she said, running her hands over his chest.

He had tried to sort out her comments, he had even asked her to clarify, but Sarah was determined to distract him from talking. Giving up for the moment, he slid his hands under her shirt only to remember she had worn her bathing suit under her clothes on their hike to the lake. Moving his hand over the smooth skin of her back, he felt her sigh against his neck.

"What about Sherlock?" she asked, her voice trembling as he moved his hands around to lightly stroke against her stomach, above her waistband.

Taken aback, and out of the moment, he frowned. "Sherlock? What _about_ him?"

Stilling her hands, Sarah pulled back to look at him, and he had never seen her look more beautiful. He had also never been more perplexed. She tilted her head. "Jareth, please don't tell me I can't take my cat Underground with me," she complained, utterly serious. "I mean, the goblins won't eat him, or anything… will they?"

Jareth laughed as feelings of relief and love washed over him. "Of _course_ you can bring Sherlock," he replied, his voice shaking with the realization that she had not refused to come with him, after all. He had misunderstood completely…

"What's so funny?" she demanded, looking every bit the Goblin Queen.

"Nothing," he replied, feeling giddy with relief. "I was under the impression that you had decided against returning Underground. I was resigning myself to a few more years here with you – which I would have gladly taken – so when you asked about Sherlock, you threw me off-balance. That's all."

Sarah shook her head. "I still can't believe you would be willing to stay here if that's what I wanted… that you would give up everything, when all you would have to do is… kidnap me, I guess, and force me to go back with you."

He regarded her seriously. "First and foremost, I would never do that to someone that I love," he began, enjoying the light flush of pink that diffused her cheeks. "Second, it would defeat the purpose. You would be unyielding, shirking your responsibilities as Goblin Queen, and then the Labyrinth would cast us both out… and not back here. We would more likely be banished to the deserts where we would slowly die of thirst, if we weren't eaten by any of the numerous beasts who roam about eating anything that moves."

Sarah shuddered. "Good to know," she said slowly. Moving closer, she brushed his lips with hers, then deepened the kiss. Moments later, she pulled back, breathless. "I can't get over it," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, disappointed that she had ended the kiss.

"I can't get enough of you," she told him seriously. He grinned at her, thrilled to hear such words fall from her kiss-swollen lips. "I'm not kidding," she went on. "I've never been able to stay with one guy for very long, because I just… there's never been a spark. Maybe right at first there is, but the more I get to know them, the more it just feels… wrong. Jake only lasted as long as he did because he wasn't intimidated by my disinterest."

Jareth was silent, thinking.

"Do you think…" Sarah paused. "Is it possible that all those relationships failed because of what's been between us? I mean, I had no idea, but on some level, could I have… sensed something?"

He felt his heart pounding. "What do you think?"

"I think," she said slowly, a smile spreading across her face, "I think that somehow, I was comparing every man I ever met… to you. I mean, you made quite an impression on me, you know? And a lot of what happened didn't affect me as much at the time as it did a few years later, when I started having… expectations."

Jareth grinned. "Expectations that perhaps would be exhausting for me but impossible for others?"

Catching the teasing note in his voice, she laughed. "Something like that." Growing serious again, she shook her head as if to clear it. "I think part of me has always been in love with you… has wanted you. How could anyone else live up to that?"

Sobered, he placed one hand behind her head and drew her to him. "It has been the same for me, Sarah. No other women Above or Under could ever satisfy me the way you do."

For a few hours, no more coherent words were exchanged.


	11. Chapter 11

Jareth stood in Sarah's tiny bathroom drying off. He felt none of the usual twinges of pain in his shoulder; actually he felt better than he had since before the entire ordeal began. Standing slowly, he wiped the foggy mirror with the corner of the towel and stared. Not a single bruise remained. Rotating his arm, it moved perfectly forward and then backward. Perhaps they should start to prepare for their departure.

"Sarah?" he called, knowing she was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

Jareth felt the pull of the Labyrinth and knew the time was even shorter than he had thought. In fact… "Oh bugger," he muttered. "Sarah!" he called again, hastily wrapping the towel around his waist and heading out into the hall.

"What is it?" she asked, hurrying toward him, a dishtowel in her hands.

"Get Sherlock," he said calmly.

Her eyes widened in understanding. "What, now? Uh… Sherlock!"

The large tabby cat came bounding into the living room like a dog, skidding to a halt as he saw his mistress clinging to their new housemate and looking anxious. Tilting his head to the side, he stared at them.

"Come _here_, Sherlock," Jareth said firmly.

Sarah looked from him to the cat and back to him again. "Jareth, why do I feel so weird. What's happening?"

Sherlock had meandered over, taking his time. He leapt up onto the arm of the sofa just seconds before it was too late. Jareth pulled him up into his arms, placing him snugly between himself and Sarah. "Hold on, Precious," he told her.

Moments later, Sarah opened her eyes and released her death grip on Jareth. They were standing in the middle of Jareth's throne room, surrounded by cackling goblins. They seemed to be more amused at Jareth's state of undress and the fact that he was holding a cat than they were relieved that their king was home.

"Well," Sarah said, wiping her hands on her jeans. "That was… that was fast."

Jareth nodded, carefully setting Sherlock down. To the goblins, he said, "This cat is your new supervisor. You will treat him with respect and obedience, or you will answer to me."

Sobering, the goblins gathered around Sherlock, who looked so smug that it seemed he'd understand Jareth's orders. To Sarah, Jareth said, "Yes, I'm sorry about that. We'll be able to go back for the rest of the animals and whatever else you want to bring here. We'll also visit your family when you're ready."

Nodding, Sarah watched in amusement as the goblins catered to Sherlock, petting him and feeding him scraps. "Don't overfeed him," she warned them. "And never give him chocolate."

They nodded, wide-eyed. "Okay, Queenie," they agreed in unison. Or… almost unison.

She grinned, looking over at Jareth, who was no longer in the towel but was resplendent in black leather.

"Yes, well… goblins are rather stupid, except when it really counts. They know who you are," he replied drolly. "I'm just glad they didn't say something foolish last time you were here, that could have been… awkward."

Smiling at him and batting her lashes, Sarah said, "What happened to the towel? I was enjoying the view."

Raising one eyebrow in an attempt to look intimidating, he said, "Hardly regal attire for in the throne room, my precious, especially in front of the minions. Shall we… retire to the royal bedchamber, where I'll gladly wear whatever you want?"

"Now you're talking," she said, linking her fingers with his.

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

One week later…

Sarah stood in the middle of her house, looking around. She felt a twinge of sadness but she knew her aunt would understand. Having gone through each room, she found that beyond her book collection and few mementos, there was very little she wanted to take with her. Of course, she had gone on a shopping spree and bought several hundred dollars of necessities that the Underground wouldn't be able to provide.

"So," Lacey said as Sarah turned to her with a too-bright smile. "You're sure you want me to have this place?"

"Absolutely," Sarah replied. "I can't think of a better person to give it to. I know you'll take care of the animals and continue to take in others… and when the approval comes through to be a satellite preserve for birds of prey, you'll be able to apply for some grants."

Lacey nodded, tears in her eyes. "You'll come back and visit?"

"Count on it," Sarah said, giving her young friend a hug.

"I still can't believe you eloped with Jareth," Lacey changed the subject. "I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Sarah smiled. "Well you saw it before I did, or at least before I was willing to admit it to myself. I just… I couldn't believe that he still felt anything for me, after so much time had gone by."

"I'm really going to miss you," Lacey said. "I still don't understand why I won't be able to write to you."

Sarah cringed inwardly. "Lacey, I explained all of that. Jareth's work… where he works… is kind of secret. I really can't tell you more than that. But we'll visit a lot… we won't be that far. I promise."

Lacey nodded slowly. "He's like a government agent or something, I get it. I get it. That's really cool, actually."

Sarah didn't try to correct her friend; it was easier to let Lacey draw her own conclusions. "Yeah, well, he's a cool guy."

Jareth stepped out of the house and glanced over at the two women. "Who's a 'cool guy'?" he demanded, his jealousy painfully obvious.

"You, darling," Sarah said. "I was talking about you."

He smirked. "Good. Are you ready, precious?"

Sarah's smile froze. He was just going to poof them away, with Lacey standing right here? As if on cue, the phone rang.

"Oh, darn it," Lacey said, giving Sarah a quick hug. "I'd better get that, it's probably Mom. Come visit soon, you two!" She hurried into the house.

"What vehicle will Lacey think we left in?" Sarah asked her husband as he took her into his arms.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"She'll ask about it when we visit," Sarah replied, biting her lower lip.

"Then I guess we'll just have to bring Lacey Underground for a visit."

"You're not serious," Sarah scoffed, but her heart sped up just a little bit at the thought of having her dear friend visit them in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. "Are you serious?"

"I do as my Queen bids," he said, a humble phrase rendered in as haughty a voice as he could muster.

Grinning, Sarah stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Seconds later, they disappeared.

Inside the house, Lacey dropped the phone. She had been wondering where her friends' car was, since Sarah had given her the Jeep free and clear, along with everything else. "Mom? I have to call you back!" she said hurriedly, but by the time she got out to the porch, there was no sign of Sarah or Jareth, and no car driving down the road, which she could see clearly in either direction for at least half a mile. "What the…?"

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

A few weeks later…

"You're crazy, Sarah," Toby cried, laughing as he ran to tackle his older sister. "Neat costume, though, where'd you get it? Are you going to the Renaissance Faire? I thought that was in June. Who's this? Your boyfriend?"

Sarah laughed, hugging him tightly. "No, Toby, this is my husband. His name is Jareth, and he's… the Goblin King," she said, looking up at her parents, who stood there looking at her quizzically.

Toby scrunched his nose, picking up on one point only. "Ew, you got married?"

"Sarah, really," Karen said, her tone implying that there had been _quite_ enough nonsense. To Jareth, she said, "I'm glad my daughter has found someone who can join in her odd sense of the dramatic. I'm Karen."

"My lady." Jareth took her hand and kissed it, and Karen twittered, glancing at her husband. "Oh, this one's a keeper, don't you think, Robert?"

Sarah's father nodded slowly, shaking Jareth's hand. "Robert Williams. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr… er, Jareth."

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Robert," he replied, winking at Sarah.

Robert laughed nervously, glancing at his daughter. "Oh, I'm not a lord. Just call me Robert… or Bob."

"I assure you that you are a Lord," Jareth said, smiling. "And my lovely mother-in-law is a Lady, and Tobias is a Master. We have come to take you all home, you see. You'll be living with Sarah and I, in the castle."

"Oh, I get it," Karen said, laughing. "Sarah… you've landed a role in a play, haven't you? And this is your co-star. Oh, honey, when is it? Do you have tickets for us? Why didn't you tell us about it before? How long have you been rehearsing? Your costumes are amazing!"

Sarah smiled, feeling Jareth squeeze her hand. "You're right, Karen," she agreed, keeping it simple for the moment. "Actually, we need a little help with a scene, and we were wondering if you guys could help us with it. Toby, we need Guinevere, too, so why don't you go get her from the backyard?"

"Okay!" Toby agreed, dashing off excitedly.

"Who's Guinevere?" Jareth whispered into Sarah's ear.

"She's Toby's dog. We got her after Merlin passed away, a few years after… after you and I met," she explained. "Don't worry. She gets along great with Sherlock."

Jareth smiled. "I'm vastly relieved to hear it."

Robert cleared his throat nervously. "So that's it, huh? You two are in a play together, and you're married _in the play_. Not in real life, right?"

"Actually, Dad," Sarah began, but the explanations would have to wait. Toby had rushed back in, Guinevere on his heels. She was overjoyed to see Sarah, nearly knocking her down. She was a slightly smaller Sheepdog than Merlin, but her youth gave her uncontained energy. "Okay. Is everyone ready to go?"

"Yes!" shouted Toby.

Karen looked nervously at Sarah. "Go where, dear? I thought you just wanted help rehearsing a scene."

"Now, please don't be nervous," Jareth instructed. "Everyone just relax, and in a matter of moments, it will all be over."

"Oh, lord," Robert replied, his eyes darting nervously between Sarah and Karen. "He's going to blow us all up."

Sarah laughed. "No, he's not. We're just going home."

And then they were there, standing in the great hall of the castle beyond the Goblin City. Sherlock was there to greet them, tilting his head curiously at Guinevere, who had taken the situation in her stride.

"Oh dear," Karen whispered, squeezing Robert's hand tightly. "Sarah… what's going on? What is this place?"

"We are in my world, the Underground," Jareth explained. "Sarah has consented to be my wife and Queen and to rule by my side, but she didn't want to give up her family, for which I love her all the more. I assure you that none of you will want for anything. I recently was reacquainted with my family, thanks to Sarah, and I very much wish for you to meet them, so they will be joining us for dinner tonight."

Robert stared at Jareth. "Why do I have a feeling there's a lot more to this story than the two of you are telling us right now?"

"Oh, Dad," Sarah laughed. "You have _no_ idea. Do you remember a night, a long time ago, that I was late coming home and it was storming and raining, and the two of you were going out and had asked me to watch Toby? I was pretty upset and a bit of a drama queen over the whole thing, and…"

"Actually, I do remember that night," he said, frowning in confusion.

Karen nodded. "I remember it too," she replied, speculation lighting her blue eyes. "That was the night that you changed so drastically by the time we came home that I wondered if you'd been abducted by fairies, and a replacement Sarah left in your place!"

"Well, that's where the story begins," Sarah said mysteriously. "I wasn't abducted by fairies, but by goblins. And so was Toby. But you won't hear the rest of it until tonight, when Jareth's family is here, because they haven't heard it either. Now. Follow me and I'll show you to your wing of the castle."

Robert glanced at Jareth dubiously. "We have a 'wing of the castle'?" he said incredulously.

"You do," Jareth said, leaning down to pick up Sherlock, who had started winding his way around Jareth's legs. "And you'd best follow her. You do not want to annoy the Goblin Queen… trust me on this."

Jareth grinned as he watched his bemused in-laws follow his wife and queen, who was excitedly talking a mile a minute. She held Karen's and Toby's hands in hers as her father rushed to catch up with them. "Mo chomraich," he whispered. "My sanctuary… my Sarah."

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

Sarah lay flat on her back, her fingers toying with those of her husband who lay panting at her side. The sound of him breathing heavily brought a smile to her face. He had to be as completely exhausted as she was, and still she suspected that he was no more ready for sleep than she.

"That was…" She paused, frowning. Stupendous? Amazing? Incredible? Outstanding? No word that came to mind was quite enough. "Jareth, there are no words to describe what that was."

He chuckled. "What that was, Precious, was me at full capacity," he informed her smugly. "Until now, even though I had regained my magic, I was still not quite back to normal. I assure you that I am fully and exuberantly _functional_ now. However, I must add, my queen, that I find you quite _indescribably_ delicious as well."

Sarah grinned at the haughty tone of his voice. Rolling over onto her side, she propped herself up on her left elbow and placed her right hand on his chest. "I see," she replied seriously. "Well, Your Highness, allow me to humbly say that you, at full capacity, are _quite _extraordinary."

"Yes, I know," he replied airily. Then he grinned darkly at her. "And you, my lovely wife, look as though you would demand still more of me. How fortunate I am to have a mate as fond of these strenuous activities as I."

She nodded, running her fingers from his waist, where she had been toying with the sheet, up to his chest. Lightly circling one of his nipples with her forefinger, she said, "Oh, you are most fortunate," she agreed airily, trailing her hand back down, down, down. "And you're also right about me, because… about that _demand_…"

He gasped as she reached her goal. "If this is the thanks I receive for bringing people Underground and for hosting enormous and completely chaotic family dinners, I shall have to do it more often," he said, obviously struggling to keep his voice level.

"I'm sure that I'll prove to be a grateful, thankful wife no matter what kindness you bestow," she teased, drawing her right leg over him and sitting up to straddle him. "You're not the only one who can be… generous, my darling, adorable King. You waited ten years for me, Jareth, and I intend to make that up to you."

"I look forward to it," he said hoarsely. Shifting beneath her, he smiled. Reaching for her hips, he caressed them. "We are indeed well-matched, my queen. We fit together…"

Sarah rose up and came back down. "Perfectly," she finished with him in a breathless voice, leaning down to kiss his lips hungrily.

_Epilogue_

The dining hall roared with voices, laughter and the happy squeals of children. Present were Sarah's family, who were adapting well to life Underground after nearly a year there, as well as Jareth's parents Jarek and Ardeth, his two sisters and three brothers, their spouses, and a dozen nieces and nephews.

His father leaned over. "My son, I do not mean to complain, but you are the only one of our children who has yet to produce a grandchild. Now, I am perfectly satisfied with the twelve we have. But your mother…"

Ardeth turned her head, her attention momentarily diverted from her conversation with Karen. "Excuse me? I heard that, Husband," she interrupted. "Jareth, my boy, ignore your father. You and Sarah have plenty of time to start a family of your own. And it is not I only who was speaking of a desire for another grandchild; your father is eager to see the offspring of his eldest child."

Jareth smiled fondly at his parents. How could he ever have resented them, or his brothers and sisters? "All in good time, Father, all in good time."

His mother smiled and turned back to Karen, and his father patted his shoulder. Jareth picked up his goblet of wine and glanced across the table where Sarah sat between two of his brothers. She was laughing at something one of them had told her; in fact she looked up and met his eyes and started to laugh again. Clearly they were sharing childhood secrets, and he wondered what it was she would be teasing him about later tonight. Of course, it hardly mattered, for after these family dinners, Sarah was always in a remarkably good mood.

He winked at her and raised his glass, then drank deeply from it. It had been a very long time since he was this happy. Indeed he had nearly forgotten how to feel happy, so deeply immersed in self-pity had he become. Now, however, he had everything he had ever wanted… everything. Smiling to himself, he could scarcely wait until after dinner was served.

His mother and Karen had their heads together and were whispering back and forth. Frowning, he wondered what was so important and secretive, but he quickly forgot about it when his father asked him whether it would be possible for some land to be allotted so that members the family could move closer.

"All of you?" Jareth asked, his lips twitching to smile.

"Eventually, yes. Your mother and I are free to move at any time. Atriana and her family are also prepared to move." Jarek nodded in the direction of Jareth's brothers, who were all three entertaining Sarah now; they had her in peals of laughter. "Your brothers won't be able to come right away, of course, because of various responsibilities, and Ariadne is due to give birth at any moment, so it will be a while before she and Lon can come. I mean… That is, if you'll have us," he replied, suddenly uncertain. "We are so pleased to have you back in our lives, Jareth; it would be a shame not to make the most of it. I mean, it is lovely to get together as we do occasionally, but we would like to see you and Sarah more often. Your siblings feel the same way. So… although we are all rather spread out at the moment, we would consider relocating. That is… if you… feel it would be…" He trailed off.

Jareth grinned. "It is a marvelous idea, Father," he replied. "Simply marvelous. There is a great deal of land sitting vacant to the east of the castle. There is plenty of room to build several homes. I confess I had thought about it, but I didn't feel that I had a right to ask you all to give up your lives and homes in order to be closer to the son who so flagrantly disregarded you all."

"Nonsense," Jarek replied, his eyes shining. "We all believe that family is what is most important," he said. "And since you are a monarch and can hardly relocate an entire kingdom, it makes far more sense for us to come to you."

Nodding wordlessly for fear of becoming too emotional, Jareth smiled and slapped his father on the back. "I am prepared to offer positions of authority to you as well as Javin, Jax and Jalek, right here in the kingdom. Lon and Remos as well, if they so desire."

Jarek grinned. "Well, I think you've just knocked down any reason for hesitation any of them might have had by your generous offer, my son."

"I am pleased to hear it," Jareth replied, but he felt far more pleased than he sounded. It was still difficult for him to express his emotions, especially joy, but Sarah was teaching him.

As if reading Jareth's thoughts of his wife, his father said, "She is a lovely girl, Jareth, and her family is wonderful. We are quite pleased to call her 'daughter' and to have them as in-laws."

Jareth nodded, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. Taking another sip of wine, he smiled across the table at Sarah, who grinned back at him. She was now sitting next to Ariadne, who was giving him an impish look. He had a bad feeling he knew exactly what stories _she_ was going to tell Sarah, and tried to send her a warning look. She laughed at him and lightly touched Sarah's arm to get her attention.

A brief glance at Karen and his mother told him that the two were still in conference together. "Really, Mother," he said, directing his voice a few chairs down to where to sat – honestly, wasn't _anyone_ in their assigned seat? "What is it you and my mother-in-law are discussing so earnestly?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Nosy git," she scolded him. "Watch your tongue and be respectful, boy. You may be a king but you're still my son!"

"Yes, Mother," he replied teasingly, still burning with curiosity as he saw them go back to their conversation.

An hour later, dessert had been served and everyone had retired to the drawing room, which Sarah referred to as the 'family room'. Indeed, she had redecorated it and made it a very comfortable place, with room for the entire family to convene. Most of the children had fallen asleep in their parents' arms; only the oldest ones were still awake, quietly playing games. Jareth sat in a high-backed chair; Sarah was in his lap.

The family would stay overnight and then travel to their respective homes after a buffet breakfast. Soon, though, most, if not all, of them would be but a walk away, right on Goblin Kingdom soil. Jareth was eagerly looking forward to that time, as was Sarah. She'd been genuinely pleased when he had whispered the news to her after dinner. Looking up at her now, he noticed that she was positively beaming with happiness. In fact, it looked as though she could hardly contain herself.

"What are you up to, Precious?" he asked her, tugging at her sleeve.

She glanced at him and smiled. "Just wait."

"I don't want to wait, Sarah, tell me now," he demanded, trying to sound imperious. She ignored him and continued talking with his sister, Atriana, about gardening, of all things. Still, he was pleased that she liked his family and that they liked her. His hand was well-hidden in the folds of her skirt, so he gave her a gentle squeeze and felt her squirm slightly.

His father said, "So, Jareth… When you tire of ruling, are you going to pass the Goblin throne on to a wisher-away? Or to your own heir, once you have one?"

"I already have an heir in mind for the Kingdom," Jareth announced, his fingers continuing to tantalize his wife's thigh through her garment. What he had to say would be a surprise to Sarah's parents, but he had already informed her of his purpose. "I have had one since Sarah wished Toby away," he said, indicating the boy, who took no notice. He was engaged in a game of chess with Javin's oldest son, Alek. "When he comes of age, I should like very much to pass the throne on to him."

Approving murmurs were heard throughout the room. Karen looked a bit dubious, but Robert patted her hand and soothed her. Soon there was much discussion about the houses that would need to be built for the family, including Sarah's parents, if they decided they'd rather have a place of their own. Jareth took advantage of the chaos to increase his private attentions. He moved his hand around to her rear and noted with smug satisfaction that Sarah's eyes were glazed over, her mouth slightly open.

"You know, however, that you are welcome to remain here," Jareth replied. "We've more than enough room… Father and Mother, you too are welcome to rooms within the castle while your house is being built."

"Yes, of course," Sarah agreed readily, smiling at everyone, but he could hear in her voice how he had affected her. "Well," she said, standing and smoothing her skirts down. "Please forgive me, but I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed early."

Jareth rose as well, taking her hand. "I believe I will join you, my dear."

While they said goodnight to their family, Jareth's brothers gave him knowing looks, grinning and waggling their eyebrows. Perhaps he hadn't been as discreet as he thought. He ushered Sarah out of the room before she could see them smirking. They had barely closed the door to drawing room when she pushed him up against the wall and attacked him.

"Precious," he gasped. "Can we not take this upstairs, seeing as we have guests in the house, in fact right in the next room?"

She nipped at his throat, her hands pushing his jacket down, yanking it off and draping it over her arm as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. "Not feeling very daring tonight, Goblin King?" she teased him.

"What _has _gotten into you?" he demanded, reaching down to pick her up in his arms. "These are not ordinary houseguests who will stay where they ought while we frolic in the hall or on the staircase, Love, these are family who already know that we are _not_ _at all_ tired, and who know precisely what we left to do."

Undeterred, she began undoing his cravat. "Yes, I saw the looks your brothers were giving you," she said calmly, pushing his shirt off his shoulders even as he carried her.

"Speaking of my brothers, what exactly where they telling you?" he asked, trying to sound kingly.

She bit his shoulder. "Never mind that right now. If you insist that we go upstairs, you'd better hurry about it. Poof us there or something. You're the one who was getting me all revved up in there!"

He chuckled as he took her up the winding staircase to their room, preferring to build the excitement rather than transporting them. "I promise you that when we have the castle to ourselves, we will… enjoy… every single room, one at a time," he said with dark intent. He set her down and she pulled his shirt off, then reached for his waistband, pushing his breeches low on his hips. "Until then, we are free to explore various other possibilities as you see fit."

"Such as…" she asked. They were standing outside their bedroom door. Sarah now had him almost completely undressed. He couldn't help but feel rather exhilarated. She herself was still fully dressed, and he looked forward to remedying the situation.

Still, as he sought to articulate to her the possibilities offered by the bath, the window sill, the armoire and the thick rug by the fire, he heard a snicker from down the hall. "Who's there?" he demanded.

A cross-eyed goblin stepped around the corner, followed by one wearing one wearing a baseball cap that had seen better days, probably one of Toby's. "Just us, Kingy," they chorused, their eyes bugging out of their heads at the sight of their king, looking rather undignified and nearly naked.

Frowning, Jareth adjusted his pants and stooped down as the two goblins stepped closer. "Why are you spying upon your King and Queen? And… just where have you all been lately?" he asked suspiciously. "You're the first goblins I've seen around in almost a week. Normally I can't get rid of you."

"We not spying," the baseball-hat goblin said. "You go back to nooky now."

The other one nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, back to nooky! We's here now but we's headin' back to de Goblin City. Too many ungoblins around lately, we no likey."

"I see," Jareth replied, placing a hand over his mouth. "Well, then, I suggest you both go back, and tell the others that they'd better get used to there being a lot of 'ungoblins' around here, and that you're all expected to be cordial and well-mannered."

"Eesh," the cross-eyed goblin said. "Good ting we has de goblin sanctuary," he said as the other one nodded vigorously.

Raising his eyebrows, Jareth then frowned and shook his head. "I don't even want to know," he said, shooing the two hapless goblins away. Rising, he turned to Sarah. "Now, where were we, Precious? Care to assist me with my boots?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask," she replied. "You were going to share with me some _possibilities_ we could explore," she prompted. "As we engage in various forms of… nooky." She tugged off the sinful footwear and her hands moved to push at his waistband once again.

"Oh, that's right," he said, snapping his fingers as if just now remembering. "First, though, I want to know what has you smiling so much this evening, not that you don't always look radiant. And what have your step-mother and my mother twittering about when they think no one is looking?"

Sarah moved into the room, still pulling at his clothing. "Later," she said.

"Now," he rejoined. "Or I shan't grant you access to what you're after."

Opening her mouth in mock outrage, she said, "That's blackmail, Jareth!"

"Indeed, and generally quite effective," he agreed calmly.

She relented rather quickly, and he felt his chest constrict with a barely held-in breath. "Okay, you win," she said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I wanted to wait until we were in bed, warm and satisfied, before telling you."

Jareth grinned darkly. "That would have taken far too long, Precious. If you will think for a moment, you will admit that completely sating ourselves can be rather time consuming and exhausting. Perhaps I would not be awake upon meeting your expectations of me."

Sarah rolled her eyes but finally conceded. "Well, I guess you do have a point."

He grinned as she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his bare middle, her hands creeping lower as she slid one inside his loosened breeches. "Jareth…"

"You have a thing for my posterior, don't you?" he asked lightly, enjoying the feel of her hand kneading his flesh.

"Oh, it's a lovely one, Jareth," she agreed, squeezing gently. "But that wasn't my news. My news is far more exciting and probably a bit more of a surprise… I hope you're ready to be a father, because I'm pregnant." She glanced up at him under her eyelashes hoping for a positive reaction.

Jareth's grin widened. "I suspected as much," he told her.

"You did not!" she cried, removing her hand and swatting him. "You're supposed to be surprised!"

He shook his head. "Precious, your behavior of late has been more mercurial than ever before. And when my mother said earlier that we have plenty of time to start a family, I knew something was afoot, for she is not a patient woman where grandchildren are concerned," he said logically. "I knew then that though my father was in the dark, both my mother and Karen knew something. Why, though, Precious, did you share your news with them before me?" he asked, trying not to allow her to see how hurt he was.

"Oh, Jareth," she said with a sigh. "I didn't _purposely_. First Karen guessed, and then she asked Ardeth what her opinion was. After discussing my moods and my skin tone and a multitude of other 'proofs', they asked me point-blank. They were so excited, I just couldn't lie."

Jareth nodded, smiling. "Typical grandmothers-to-be," he commented. "Interfering, opinionated and quite smug."

"I know," Sarah sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "Isn't it great?"

Kissing the top of her head, he nodded. "It is, indeed, very _great_, Precious. When are we going to announce it to the rest of the family?"

"Oh, I thought tomorrow night at dinner," she sighed happily, her finger lightly tracing his chest, sending delightful shivers through his body. "Although, I'm pretty sure that by then, our fathers and possibly your sisters will already know," she added with a frown. "Jareth, do you think…"

He sighed reluctantly. "I do. I shall redress and we will go back and tell them now, before it spreads like wildfire throughout the kingdom."

"You really think it'll happen that quickly?" she asked dubiously, watching with obvious reluctance as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it back up.

With a short laugh, he leaned forward to kiss her. "Oh Sarah, you have no idea…"

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

One hour later, the two goblins, Smudge and Grappy, rushed into the newly built and proclaimed 'Goblin Sanctuary: Retreat from the Ungoblins'. "The heir is going to be young Toby!" they announced breathlessly, covering their ears as the hordes of goblins cheered noisily. "We heard it from the King hisself!" Smudge cried.

"I coulda toldja that," Hoggle replied waspishly, using the 'R' in Ludo's spelling of "ROX" to make his play of 'RAT'. "There," he said to Didymus. "Triple word score gives me a gran' total o' nine."

Didymus added Hoggle's score, still perturbed that Hoggle hadn't allowed him to challenge Ludo's play. It was wonderful the beast was learning to spell, but rules were rules! "Verily, I cannot say that I am surprised, either," he agreed, studying his tiles.

"_And_," Grappy added, "the Queen is wit' child! They jus' made the announcement to all the ungoblins!"

"Hey, that was _my_ news, you dirty cheat!" Smudge complained. His grumbling was drowned out, however, by the sound of immense cheering and stomping of feet.

"Careful," Hoggle complained loudly, "this so-called Sanctuary is nothin' but a pile o' rocks. It ain't even cemented, ya know!"

"Yeah," Ludo agreed shortly, glancing around with no little amount of concern. As he looked back at his two brothers, the building groaned mightily as a rock dislodged and fell from the top of the 'sanctuary'. It bounced off the head of a helmeted goblin, who looked a bit dizzy but remained standing.

The last thing heard before the entire structure crumbled was Ludo's very succinct, "Uh-oh."

The End


End file.
